James Potter and the Sword of Gryffindor
by ColbiWest
Summary: When 11-year old James Potter is admitted in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, he is not prepared to clash against prefect Lucius Malfoy, who devises a mysterious plot with the aid of the unlikeable first-year Severus Snape. Follow James as he and his three new friends, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew, learn to work together against the growing evil.
1. Whispers in Diagon Alley

**Whispers in Diagon Alley**

"Master James?"

"Coming!" Eleven-year-old James Potter threw down the book he had been experimentally pushing further and further over the edge of his bedside table and sped out of his room. He sprinted down the hallway and leapt down the staircase three steps at a time, his unruly jet-black hair bouncing around his ears. Turning the corner rapidly, he skidded to a halt just in front of a wizened, humanoid creature with long, tan ears sticking out from either side of his head. The house-elf did not quite reach James' waist, but Winthrop's stern-looking expression would have intimidated anyone not familiar with the better sides of his personality.

"Master's mother and father are waiting," the house-elf said in his high-pitched voice, hands clasped firmly behind the embroidered dish-towel he used as a toga-like covering.

"Okay," James responded unconcernedly. "That's it?"

Winthrop raised one white, bushy eyebrow. "Masters Fleamont and Euphemia have been waiting for over half an hour, and Mistress finally sent Winthrop to get you. Something about a letter." Confused, James continued to stare blankly down at him until Winthrop's eyebrow rose another quarter of an inch.

"Oh!" James exclaimed, eyes wide. "That letter, you mean?"

"Master and Mistress have not opened it yet. Anyway, since Master's legs appear to be working spectacularly," Winthrop responded slyly, shifting his eyes towards the glazed wooden stairs, "Winthrop thinks the journey to the kitchen should not be long."

"Oh, bite me," James retorted good-naturedly as he dashed around the house-elf and towards the kitchen. His mother greeted him at the entrance just as he reached the door.

"How about you sit down and have your breakfast?" she asked, her wrinkles around her smiling mouth and eyes clearly pronounced in the early morning light as she ushered him into the room behind her. Allowing her to push him along, James shoved his round-shaped glasses further up his nose and took his usual seat next to his father at the head of the mahogany table.

"Winthrop mentioned a letter?" James asked as he eagerly loaded toast onto his plate.

"Did he?" his father answered distractedly, engrossed in the morning edition of _The_ Daily Prophet. "What letter is that?"

James paused, a piece of bread halfway to his mouth, staring questioningly at his father. The aging man peeked around his newspaper and grinned at James, taking a sealed envelope from his lap and handing it to him. As James' heart began to beat again, he quickly read the address.

 _To Mr. J Potter_

 _Potter Cottage_

 _Godric's Hollow_

 _West Country, England_

Excitement rushed down James' spine, and he quickly tore the envelope open.

 _HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY_

 _Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore_

 _(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,_

 _Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

 _Dear Mr. Potter,_

 _We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._

 _Term begins on 5 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July._

 _Yours sincerely,_

 _Minerva McGonagall_

 _Deputy Headmistress_

"Excellent!" James exclaimed, turning the page over to skim the required items for new students.

"Your father and I are so proud of you!" his mother exclaimed, hugging his torso tightly. "We'll get your items today in Diagon Alley. Now you hurry up and eat your breakfast while I get ready." She ran her fingers through her son's hair as he shoved the remainder of his toast into his mouth. Glancing at _The Daily Prophet_ to look at the news, he almost caught a glimpse of the inside cover before his father noticed and hastily folded the paper closed. As he placed it under the table, James sat back in disappointment and pushed up from his chair.

"Wait a minute, James," his father called as he started to run off, smiling apologetically. "I have a surprise for you." Sitting down again expectantly, James fidgeted in his seat as he waited. Folding up his paper, his father reached underneath his chair and pulled out a wrinkled package and placed it on the table.

"What is it?" James asked.

"Open it and see," his father urged, sitting on the edge of his seat eagerly.

Obeying immediately, James grabbed the present and tore the paper away, revealing a folded, simple-looking cloak. Confused, he shook it out; it was much too long for him to fit in, and it shimmered with a silver light when it moved.

"Here, give it to me," his father spoke up, growing impatient with excitement as he crinkled _The Daily Prophet_ behind him and pushed his chair back. Handing the cloak over, James watched as his father paused dramatically. Winking once at his son, he flung the fabric over his head and completely vanished from the kitchen. When James let out an amazed gasp, he threw the cloak off again and extended it to his son.

"It's my old Invisibility Cloak," his father explained as James took it and tried it on. "My father gave it to me when I went to school, and his father gave it to him before that. It got me into plenty of adventures at Hogwarts, and it even saved my hide a few times. I think you'll find some use for it at school."

"Thank you!" James exclaimed, throwing his arms around his father and squeezing tightly.

"Ooh, watch it!" he protested, wincing and prying himself free. "My ribs aren't exactly young anymore."

"Are you ready, James?" his mother suddenly called from out of view.

"Go on, now," his father encouraged, pushing James toward the door. "Stay with your mother and make sure she doesn't get lost."

Dashing out of the door and down the hall, James hurried into the lounge, where his mother stood waiting by the fireplace with her purse in hand. Spotting the Invisibility Cloak in his fist as he approached, she clicked her tongue and shook her head.

"I told him to wait to give you that," she complained. "I don't think a school-aged boy should be trusted with it."

"He said it helped him get out of trouble," James protested, bunching up the Cloak and stuffing it into the pocket of his robes.

"I've gotten him out of more trouble than that Cloak could ever dream of," his mother remarked while she reached for the top of the fireplace and removed a small bowl of powder. "We're using the Floo network to get to the Leaky Cauldron," she informed him, taking a pinch of the powder before giving the bowl to her son. "Follow right behind me."

Stepping into the empty fireplace, she threw the powder at her feet and said, "The Leaky Cauldron!"

As soon as the sparkling dust touched the ground, emerald flames burst upwards from the floor and enveloped her, leaping up to the top of her gray head and covering her completely. However, just as suddenly as it had appeared, the fire died out, taking James' mother with it. Unconcerned, James stepped into the fireplace where she had stood just seconds ago.

"The Leaky Cauldron!" he repeated, taking care to speak loudly and enunciate his destination properly. When the powder he had thrown flared up around him, he felt no heat as an invisible force sucked his body through space and threw it out again in a fireplace of a cozy pub. Staggering out with the momentum of his journey, he grasped his mother's hand to keep him from falling forward and pulled himself upright.

"Hello, Euphemia!" an old witch called out from a table in the corner of the pub, where she was sitting with a younger wizard.

"Hello, Gillian," James' mother answered with a smile, leading James towards the speaker. As he walked closer, James recognized the witch as Gillian McGoosh, a sporadic visitor of his parents'.

"Hello, James, how are you doing?" Gillian asked him.

"Fine, thank you," he responded, and the wizard at her table turned around to face the newcomers. He had a spiky mess of dark hair which did not quite make it down to his square jaw, and his lips curled upward in a welcoming smile. Scattered blotches on his forehead and chin suggested he had once had a bad case of acne as a youth.

"I was just talking to Rookwood here about the events at the Ministry," Gillian was telling James' mother amiably. "You know, the protests against non-magical folk have certainly been causing a lot of trouble for the Muggle-Worthy Excuse Committee—"

"Maybe such topics shouldn't be discussed around young ears," James' mother suddenly interrupted, covering James' ears with her hands. Although he shook her off, Gillian had already nodded apologetically and placed her hand over her mouth.

"Of course," she amended, and she turned to James instead. "My goodness, but haven't you grown since the last time I saw you? How old are you now?"

"Eleven," he answered, and she let out a happy gasp.

"So you're here to get your first wand, is that it?" He nodded, and Gillian clapped her hands together excitedly.

"It seems like only yesterday I was getting my first wand as well," Rookwood said, standing up and extending his hand towards James' mother.

Taking it, she asked, "Augustus, isn't it?"

He smiled and nodded. "And you must be Euphemia Potter," he guessed. "Your husband is still admired at the Ministry."

"Well, he certainly knows how to make an impression," James' mother replied politely. "I just have to be satisfied when it's a good one."

All the adults laughed appreciatively. "Well, it's about time I head off," Rookwood told Gillian. "But remember what I said: it's not our place to get involved. Phoenixes of a feather should stick together, I always say."

Tilting her head to the side, James' mother narrowed her eyes. "Do you mean the—" She broke off and glanced at her son, who pretended not to be interested. "Do you mean those without magic? The Muggles?" she continued in a swift whisper. "Shouldn't we be doing all we can to stop the attacks?"

"Of course," Rookwood answered, waving his hand dismissively as James watched out of the corner of his eye. "But there's only so much we can do, and we have to think of the Statute of Secrecy. When all's said and done, the best protection for the Muggles is to separate them from magic of any sort. What they don't know can't hurt them." At this, James' mother made a small disparaging noise, but Rookwood did not seem to notice as he raised a hand in farewell. "A pleasure."

As he walked off, Gillian smiled sheepishly. "I'm sorry, Euphemia. He's well-meaning enough, but his ideas on Muggle protection can be a bit old-fashioned." Breaking off, she beamed at James and clasped his hands. "Have a wonderful time at Hogwarts, James. Make your parents proud."

After nodding, he joined his mother on the way out of the Leaky Cauldron through the back door. Looking up at her face inquisitively while they walked through the narrow alley, he tried to read her expression as she glanced down at him and smiled weakly.

"I'm sorry, James," she said, placing her hand on his shoulder and squeezing once. "There's just been a lot of things going on lately, but nothing you have to be worried about."

Stopping when they reached a dead-end, she reached into the pocket of her fur overcoat and pulled out her wand, a short, curly piece of dark wood. Starting at a garbage bin set against the wall, she counted three bricks up and two across before tapping the chosen spot with her wand. Immediately the bricks parted in the middle to form a hole, which grew in size until there stood an archway large enough for a person to walk through. Grabbing his mother's hand, James carted her through the entrance before it sealed up behind them.

Breathing in the smell of roasting chestnuts and smoke from a nearby wizard's pipe, he smiled as the noise of bartering shop vendors greeted his ears. A myriad of menageries, bookstores, and appliance shops ran down the winding street, the largest and most prominent building standing at the end, where the road forked off into separate shopping districts; supported by massive stone pillars, Gringotts Wizarding Bank oversaw the activities of the shoppers and passersby bustling beneath its shadow, and James began to grow excited at the familiar sight. Only a little above his head and to the right sat the metal plaque on the wall announcing their location: Diagon Alley.

"Where to first?" James' mother asked, conjuring a scroll of parchment with her wand and looking at it. "We have to get you a wand of course, but you can also choose an owl or a cat or a toad to bring to school, and Flourish and Blotts will have all of your textbooks—"

"Let's get my wand first!" James interrupted.

"All right," she laughed, tucking the scroll away into her pocket. "Off to Ollivanders, then. He has the best wands this side of the Ural Mountains—possibly the best in the world."

Holding out her hand, he led James down the street towards an old building farther down the alley. Passing a sales-witch with a tray full of fire-spitting beetles, they stopped when they reached their destination and opened the door with a creak. Immediately struck by the tightness of the enclosed space, James looked around at the dozens of shelves lining the back of the shop, all filled with small, slender boxes. At their entrance, a small bell rang and called a rather stringy man to the front desk.

"Welcome." Ollivander bowed slightly. "A wand for the young one, I presume? His first?" When James' mother nodded, the shop-owner bent down to extract a tape measure from a hidden drawer.

"Which is your wand arm?" Ollivander inquired of James, stepping out from behind the desk, and James extended his right. With a flick of his wand, Ollivander sent the tape measure shooting upwards to James' shoulder, and it extended and retracted to capture the length of his fingertips while the shop-owner turned to pull out one of the boxes from a back shelf.

"Try this one," he ordered James wheezily, handing over the wand from inside the box and watching intently with wide, silver eyes. James took it and lowered his eyebrows in concentration before lifting his arm and waving it.

"No, I'm afraid it won't do at all," Ollivander said quickly, seizing the wand and dropping it onto the floor unceremoniously. "This one." He handed James another, and he had barely touched it when Ollivander took it back. "Now this: very fine, dragon heartstring, ten and a quarter inches . . ." Again James grasped the wand, but Ollivander immediately snatched it back. "Try this one," he commanded instead, extending a replacement.

The ritual went on for a full ten minutes, Ollivander growing more excited and James more frustrated with each failed attempt. Beginning to wonder what the shop-owner was watching for, James gave his new experiment an impatient shake and almost cried out when a couple of red sparks flew from the tip. In front of him, Ollivander nodded sagely.

"Eleven inches, mahogany, phoenix feather, surprisingly firm," he quoted by memory. "A very fine wand—fit for a stubborn, talented, and protective owner. Use it well, child," he said, bending down to retrieve a handful of discarded wands. Wondering about the wizard's last statement, James fingered his wand thoughtfully as Ollivander turned to his mother.

"That'll be seven Galleons," he told her, and she reached into her purse to retrieve the payment. After giving him seven gold coins, she and James exited the shop as Ollivander gave a parting bow.

As soon as the door closed behind them and left the wizard standing alone behind his desk, James turned to his mother. "Can I go choose an owl now?" he asked eagerly.

"So it's going to be an owl?" his mother questioned.

"Yes," James stated firmly. "That way it can carry my mail for me."

"You _will_ write, won't you?"

"Of _course_ I will, mum," James groaned, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "Now let's go!" He started off for the Magical Menagerie, but his mother tugged him in the other direction.

"Better go to Eeylop's Owl Emporium," she told him. "They have the best variety of birds."

Turning to follow her, James walked towards the small shop near the end of the street and entered behind his mother. When they stepped inside, a sudden barrage of squawking and hooting met their ears, and James had to turn in a full circle to take in the preening, ruffling owls perched in every corner of the room. A strong musk greeted his nose, but after the first shock of the odor had passed, he decided he rather liked it. After a moment, an old witch about the age of James' mother shuffled out of a back room, her huge eyes resembling the birds' surrounding her.

"Hello!" she squeaked. "Welcome to Eeylop's Owl Emporium. What can I help you with today?"

"My son wants an owl," James' mother answered.

"All right, then," the witch said, gesturing towards the owls. "Have a go—all the best owls around! Screech, barn, tawny, and brown."

Looking around, James eyed the owls as they stared back disinterestedly and turned away to preen their chests. Crunching a few dirty feathers underfoot as he stepped forward, James caught the eye of an especially small owl staring back at him unblinkingly. He tried to stare it down, but it did not flinch, and he grinned.

"This one," he said, pointing.

"Ah, yes," the old witch agreed, waddling forward and rubbing her fingers together. "A Screech owl. Thought someone would buy him soon: he's a real beauty. Only got him four days ago," she babbled, taking the owl off of its perch, and its large ear tufts ruffled in agitation. "That'll be 15 Galleons," she told James' mother, watching eagerly as she began to fish out the money from her purse. "Care for some owl treats and food?"

As his mother followed the shopkeeper around the room, James looked his new pet in the eye. "What shall I name you?" The Screech owl seemed unconcerned, turning away to pick out an unruly feather from his wing. "Feathers? Heartless? McGoosh?" Annoyed, the owl turned to glare at him. "Very well," James spoke after a thoughtful pause. "I'll call you Hardwin. Is that better?" Turning his head back around, Hardwin started preening again, and James took his boredom as a good sign.

"All right, James, we still need to get your schoolbooks," his mother spoke up suddenly, having finished with the transactions. She gave him a silver cage much too big for Hardwin, and she and James exited the shop as the wide-eyed witch excitedly fingered her pay.

When his mother began walking towards Flourish and Blott's bookstore, her eyes fixated on the supply list, James slowed down and tugged her sleeve. "Can I have a look around?" he asked, pointing at the other shops in the alleyway. Surprised, his mother paused and looked at him before smiling.

"Of course you can," she relented, and she dug out a few silver and bronze coins from her purse to hand to him. Taking Hardwin's cage, she instructed, "I gave you four Sickles and fifteen Knuts—that should be enough to buy anything you might want. Meet me here in half an hour, all right?"

"Okay!" James agreed, and he turned around when she continued on her way. Grinning to himself, he started off for Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour when a couple of hushed voices from a nearby store doorway caught his attention.

"Take a look here," a balding man with heavy, black eyebrows told his companion, flourishing a copy of _The Daily Prophet_ so they could both read it. When the younger man made a concerned grunting noise, James stepped a few paces closer and strained his ears.

"Things just keep getting worse," the second wizard exclaimed, shaking his head. "Why, if the Minister doesn't pick up her game—" The rest of his sentence was cut off as he dropped to a whisper. Curious, James quickly ducked into the space between two neighboring buildings and pulled out the Invisibility Cloak still in his pocket, throwing it over his head. Stepping out from his hiding place, he made sure to keep his feet concealed underneath the fabric as he inched closer to the two men and tried to peer over the edge of the newspaper.

"Jenkins sure has a lot on her hands," the older man added, nodding, and James recognized the name of Great Britain's Minister of Magic. "Thirteen Muggle attacks in three weeks is no laughing matter."

Astounded by the numbers, James caught a glimpse of a black-and-white photograph in _The Daily Prophet_ as the man bunched it up. Dressed in dark robes, several wizards silently talked amongst themselves as they stood over a few covered stretchers, moving agitatedly inside the frame. Suddenly James remembered how his father had reacted when he had tried to look at the paper earlier that morning.

"If . . ." The younger man suddenly grew even quieter, and James had to lean forward to hear his words. "If You-Know-Who's Death Eaters are causing the problems, I imagine it'll only get worse from here."

"Those poor Muggles won't know what hit 'em," the first one replied, and the two quieted. After a pause, the older one nodded. "Well, see you around."

"Watch yourself, the blood traitors are next," the other said.

Both whisked out of the doorway with their heads down, and James had to dart to the side to avoid being trampled. Frowning, he followed after the older man to see if he would discard his paper, but he stopped in disappointment when the wizard turned off into an adjacent alleyway and Apparated, completely vanishing to reappear in his new destination. Deflated, James pulled off the Invisibility Cloak and stuffed it back into his pocket, studying the place where the old man had disappeared contemplatively. After another moment, he turned back to find his mother.


	2. Hogwarts

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry**

"Master? Master?"

"Mmm," James murmured, turning around and pulling his sheets over his head.

"Master must wake up now."

"What is it?" James mumbled to Winthrop, who grasped his arm under the bedspread and tugged it out into the cold air.

"The Hogwarts Express leaves in a little over an hour, and Master does not want to be late," the house-elf replied, dragging James' foot out as well and forcing it into a sock. "Masters Fleamont and Euphemia are just finishing breakfast. Shall Winthrop bring some up for Master James?"

"No thanks, I don't need any," James answered, sitting up and yawning widely. After stretching his arms and placing his glasses on his nose, he took over the task of putting on his socks while Winthrop scurried out of the room.

Dragging himself sleepily to his walk-in closet, he pulled out the clothes he had preset the night before. He quickly slipped into a comfortable pair of khaki pants and a sweater vest before checking himself in the mirror. Satisfied, he nodded once; he could pass as a Muggle.

"Hey, Hardwin, what do you think?" he asked his owl, turning around once with his arms outstretched in front of his cage. Unimpressed, Hardwin hooted judgmentally.

As James lifted his suitcase onto his bed and placed his wand inside of it, Winthrop reappeared with a tray of steaming tea and buttered pastries, despite his previous orders. Brightening when he approached, James stuffed one of the crumpets into his mouth.

"Thanks," he said gratefully before taking a careful sip of the tea.

"Mistress Euphemia said Master might need something anyway," Winthrop explained, shaking out a cloth napkin and tucking it into James' shirt. "Master must not get his clothes dirty, not on the first day of school."

"Thank you," James replied, finishing his meal with one large bite and pulling the napkin back out of his collar. "I'll take Hardwin and my suitcase downstairs; don't worry about it."

Leaving the tray on the floor for Winthrop to clean up, he grabbed his wand, suitcase, and bird cage, lugging them heavily down the stairs. Thinking of Hogwarts and the new freedom it would soon allow, he could not suppress a smile; soon he could use magic to do the heavy lifting without being pounced upon by the Ministry's office for the Improper Use of Magic, being an underaged wizard.

When he reached the bottom, he found his parents waiting for him at the door, donned in Muggle clothes designed to look inconspicuous. "All packed?" his father asked.

"Yep," James answered cheerfully.

"Are your new robes in your suitcase?" his mother added. "You'll want to change on the train."

"It's all there," he affirmed. Smiling, his mother gave him a sideways hug as Winthrop trudged down the staircase with the empty tray.

"You know, Winthrop, I think I'm actually going to miss you," James told him, and the house-elf gave him a sour look. "Come on, admit you'll miss having me around."

Although he let out a short harrumph, Winthrop hesitantly nodded. "Winthrop will . . . miss Master too," he finally relented, and James bent down and lifted him off his feet, sending the platter clattering to the floor.

"Was that a sentiment I heard out of you?" James' mother asked Winthrop with a sly smile.

"Winthrop will not miss Master's continual bedtime escapes or naughty behavior at the dinner table," Winthrop quickly covered up, brushing himself off. "Master would do well to behave better at school."

"He's right, you know," James' father told his son with a hint of a grin. "I don't want an owl from Headmaster Dumbledore an hour after you arrive complaining about a Dungbomb you set off in the dormitories."

"Don't worry, you won't get an owl until after at least a week," James replied, and everyone laughed except Winthrop, who scowled. "See you Christmas break, okay, Winthrop?" James told him, rubbing his mop of white hair affectionately.

"Master must remember to his socks clean," he answered, and James followed his parents out the front door with a final parting wave.

The three crossed the yard and exited through the front gate, turning to the left and walking towards the underground Muggle railway station near the center of Godric's Hollow. Only a few people were present on the streets at the early hour, and no one gave James and his family so much as a second glance as they hurried to their destinations.

Soon the Potters ducked into the railway entrance and boarded a train, though not without some difficulty at the currency booth. Eventually James' father resorted to a quick jab with his wand, which made the machine regurgitate enough coins for five people; sheepishly, he only took what they needed and left the rest for a lucky Muggle.

After six platform changes, the trio finally reached King's Cross Station in London, inside which they loitered as they waited for the crowds to dissipate, an arduous task considering how many people paused to peer curiously at Hardwin, who stared just as unashamedly back.

"We need to walk through the wall between platforms nine and ten to get to platform nine and three-quarters," James' father finally whispered to his son as a rush of people suddenly headed for an arriving train. "Hold onto my hand and take it at a run. Your mother will be right behind us."

Nodding, James squared his shoulders and faced the indicated wall. Taking his father's hand, he grasped it tightly and sped at the metal barrier, which did not look any less solid as he neared it. After an alarmed glance at his father, he gulped and shut his eyes; surprised, he felt nothing, and a tug from behind caused him to look up again.

In from of him stretched a crowded train platform with hundreds of witches and wizards running after their sons and daughters in front of a glinting train, emblazoned with the words "The Hogwarts Express" on the side. One nearby couple seemed to be consoling their little boy as he sobbed into their arms. Another wizard had his hands full of packages belonging to his multiple chattering children, and he was unsuccessfully trying to draw them into an orderly line as they ran off to join their friends. A moment later, James' mother stepped out of the wall behind him and his father and bumped into the suitcase at his side.

"Make it all right?" she asked needlessly. James nodded, still gazing around in thrills of excitement.

"Well, I'm sure you want to go and meet some new friends," his father guessed, interrupting his thoughts. Bending down, he hugged his son tightly. "You have a good school year, James. Your mother and I are so proud of you!"

His mother knelt down and replaced his father. "Write often!" she told him, tears glistening in her eyes as she hugged him. "We'll miss you. I don't know what I'll do without you tearing around the house."

"Well, at least you won't have to deal with any of my tutors' complaints," James joked, pulling himself away.

"That's true," his father agreed, laughing reminiscently. "If I had to hear one more story about how you snuck a Flobberworm into Ms. Ollivine's tea, I wouldn't be able to stomach another cup! Just make sure you treat your other professors more kindly, okay?"

Laughing as his mother shook her head, James turned and headed off into the crowd, waving back at his parents one last time. "See you Christmas break!" he called to them, and they waved back.

Ambling forward until he had made sure his parents could no longer see him, James stopped and ran a hand through his hair, making it look even wilder than it already was. Walking more quickly now, he hurried to one of the cars on the Hogwarts Express just as another boy approached from the opposite direction, looking over his shoulder searchingly as if trying to escape from someone. Finally the boy sighed and slowed down, his dark, shoulder-length hair bouncing as he looked in front of him and locked eyes with James. Standing just in front of the door to the train, they stared at each other silently until the dark-featured boy finally lowered his eyes and waved his hand.

"Go ahead."

"Thanks," James said, lifting his birdcage to carry it onto the train, but Hardwin began hooting and flapping his wings in protest as James' hands slipped and the bars bumped against the side of the door. Reaching out, the other boy helped force the cage into the car, afterwards turning back to grab James' suitcase. After taking his suitcase back and shooting a glare at Hardwin, James held out his hand to help the other boy on board.

"Thanks again," James told him, and he nodded succinctly as they released hands. "I'm James Potter, by the way," he introduced.

"Sirius Black," the boy replied.

"Sorry about Hardwin," James apologized as they started off together down the hallway. "He's thinks he's the one who owns me, not the other way around. He's a pain, really." Opening a door to an empty compartment, he stepped inside and held it open for Sirius to follow. They both set their suitcases on the overhead racks before sitting down on opposite benches.

"So, Sirius, do you have a pet?" James asked, looking up at Sirius' suitcase.

Sirius shook his head. "Didn't bother. All they do is eat and take up room. Besides, everything I've tried to take care of before ended up dying." After a second's consideration, he said, "Once there was this lizard my brother found on the street, and we kept it in a jar for about a week. Regulus—that's my brother—," he explained, "was really adamant about giving him bugs to eat every day, but the lizard eventually died because we forgot the most important part of keeping a pet: oxygen."

James laughed, and Sirius smiled. "Nice bird, though," he added as an afterthought, looking up at Hardwin, who stared icily back.

"Thanks. He's a Screech owl," James stated proudly.

All of a sudden the train's horn blared, and James peered out of the window. As the Hogwarts Express began to chug forward, he was afraid he would miss his parents, but he finally spotted them near the end of the platform. Seeing him, they waved in farewell, and he did the same until they became a speck in the distance and vanished. When he sat back again, he noticed Sirius had looked away, his arms crossed.

"Are your family Muggles?" James asked, cocking his head.

Looking up in surprise, Sirius gave a short, bark-like laugh. "Merlin, no."

Glancing back out of the window as Sirius turned away again, James watched the rolling hills rush by for a few moments. "So what class are you most excited for?" he finally asked.

"Probably Defense Against the Dark Arts. And you?"

"Probably that and Transfiguration. Maybe Charms, too," James answered.

Sirius nodded as their compartment door slid open again and a few older boys entered, talking loudly and pushing each other good-naturedly. As they put their belongings away and sat down, they seemed to take notice of the compartment's inhabitants for the first time.

"Hey, is this your first year?" a curly-haired boy asked to James' right.

"Yeah," James answered.

"It's our second," the boy stated. "I'm Frank Longbottom." He held out his hand for James to shake.

"James Potter. That's Sirius Black," he said, taking his hand and nodding at Sirius.

"Hey," Sirius greeted.

"Excited for initiation?" Frank teased, poking his elbow into James' ribs.

"Don't try to pull that one on me," James told him, pushing his elbow away in mock annoyance. "It's not like they're going to throw the first-years into a den of dragons."

"You never know," Frank responded, and the others laughed as the door slid open again. Hurrying to the far end of the compartment, a red-haired girl with raw eyes pressed her forehead to the window, ignoring the others.

"You weren't all that tough on your first day," the tallest boy told Frank, grinning. "I'll never forget your face." He mimicked a stricken look of terror, and the two other second-years laughed.

"Hey, you were the one about to wet your pants, Dill!" Frank retorted with a grin, making Dill stick out his tongue.

"At least we three knew about the Houses!" a dark boy chuckled beside him, jabbing a finger at the skinny, blonde boy next to him. "Frederick here was too shy to ask anyone what was going on." As the others chuckled, the compartment door opened to allow in a greasy-haired boy with a sharply-hooked nose; he sat beside the girl and began talking to her in a low voice.

"You mean you didn't even know about the Houses?" Sirius asked Frederick, who smiled sheepishly and nodded.

"I came from a Muggle family, and it was a miracle I even got to the train station on time. I didn't get any of my supplies until two weeks after classes started."

"So which House are you in?" James asked.

"We're all in Gryffindor," Frank answered, "though I swear Arnold belongs in Hufflepuff, the softie." Scowling, the dark boy punched Frank as Dill sat up straighter.

"I, for one, have brains enough for Ravenclaw," he said haughtily, to much scoffing from his friends. As the moans and laughter died down, James caught the end of the greasy-haired boy's sentence at the end of the compartment.

". . . be in Slytherin."

"Slytherin?" the red-haired girl asked back.

Screwing up his face in disgust, James whipped his head around. "Who wants to be in Slytherin?" he asked distastefully. Turning to Sirius, he asked, "I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?"

Sirius shrugged. "My whole family have been in Slytherin."

"Blimey," James exclaimed, "and I thought you seemed all right!"

Sirius grinned. "Maybe I'll break the tradition. Where are you heading, if you've got the choice?" Turning to each other, the second-years shared a knowing smile as James lifted an invisible sword.

"'Gryffindor, where dwell the brave at heart!'" he announced proudly. "Like my dad."

The boy with the greasy hair snorted softly, and James turned to him. "Got a problem with that?"

"No," the boy replied, lip curling slightly. "If you'd rather be brawny than brainy—"

"Where're you hoping to go, as you're neither?" Sirius interjected. Immediately the room erupted into laughter as the red-haired girl stood up in indignation, glaring at James and Sirius in turn.

"Come on Severus, let's find another compartment," she told her friend.

"Ooooooo . . . ." the boys jeered in high voices. James stuck out his foot as Severus passed, and the boy stumbled slightly.

"See ya, Snivellus!" he called to the parting duo as the door slammed shut.

While Frank and his friends laughed amongst themselves, Sirius looked at James with a new kind of light in his eyes. Holding out his hand, he gripped James' firmly.

"Nice one, James."

"Likewise," James told him, grinning.

James spent the entire afternoon in the same compartment with Sirius and the others, and Frank and his friends were only too eager to introduce the Honeydukes Express to him an hour or so later; filled to the brim with wizarding treats such as realistically-hopping Chocolate Frogs and bags of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, the traveling cart offered every kind of sweet James could wish for. Eventually he bought a handful of Chocolate Frogs, and to his delight, he found a tradable card of Calypso the veela half-breed to add to his collection of Famous Witches and Wizards Cards. Since he already had Barnabus the Barmy, Merlin, and several of the other cards he had found inside the Chocolate Frog tins, he traded them around with the others as time dragged on.

Eventually, the stash of treats in the cabin shrank down until only a few empty wrappers gave evidence to their feast, and each of the boys took turns slipping outside of the compartment to change into their school clothes. After several long hours of journeying, James looked outside of the window and spotted a misty silhouette of a castle through the fog outside the window.

"Hey, is that it?" he asked eagerly, pointing.

Everyone turned to look, and the second-years grinned. "Yup," Frank answered. "You'd better grab your stuff now," he recommended as the train's brakes started to slow their momentum.

All the boys pulled their things off of the racks, Hardwin hooting indistinctly as he jostled with the cage of another owl. Collecting his items, James joined the stream of students in the hallway as the train slowed to a halt and the whistle blew. When he climbed down from the train, he walked side by side with Sirius out onto a moonlight-strewn landscape, dotted by a few elm trees and brick houses. Briefly wondering which direction he should take, he looked up when a booming voice suddenly echoed across the cement platform.

"Firs' years! Firs' years ter me!"

Craning his neck upwards in shock, James watched as a gigantic form of a man a whole human taller than he was step in front of him, making the ground shudder with the force of his footstep. All of the first-year students began filing over to him, and James and Sirius waited patiently while the incoming crowd jostled them closer to the speaker. As they gathered around him, the giant man beamed fondly down on the miniature students through his scraggly beard.

"I'm Hagrid, the Hogwarts Keeper of Keys and Grounds," he told them in a gruff, though not unfriendly, voice. "Follow behind me, an' don't push each other!"

Taking a long stride away from the train, he led the group of students down a well-trodden trail to a vast lake in the distance, talking over his shoulder on the way. "Yeh're all comin' with me across the lake ter Hogwarts. That's the traditional way fer the firs' years, yeh know." As they continued walking, James craned his neck to see over the heads of the other first-years and spotted a line of oarless boats spanning the length of the silver lake, illuminated by the lanterns suspended on their prows.

"Four ter a boat!," Hagrid shouted at the students as they began running down to the lake to claim a ride. "Take yer suitcases with yeh!"

Hurrying to one of the closer boats, James and Sirius piled in by the prow to ensure a good view, and James looked around at the mist-enshrouded shore. He caught a glimpse of vivid red hair as the girl from their compartment climbed cautiously into a nearby vessel, her friend Severus stepping in behind her. As the tweedy boy clambered clumsily into the boat, James snorted and nudged Sirius, but he was soon distracted by a voice next to him.

"Is anyone sitting here?"

James turned to see a boy in patched robes standing just outside of the boat, his brown hair almost long enough to cover his tired eyes. Behind him, a shorter, pudgier boy stared out at James and Sirius with wide, blue eyes.

"It's just us," Sirius answered, nodding his head towards the empty space next to him. The taller boy looked over his shoulder and gave an encouraging tilt of his head to the other before stepping inside the boat carefully. When the other boy followed, he caused the ship to rock violently, and he apologized profusely under his breath before finally sitting down with a thump, clutching the rim of the vessel. James and Sirius shared a glance as Hagrid cried out again from his own boat, which barely had enough room to hold him inside its wooden frame.

"All righ' then: move out!"

Once again the wide-eyed boy jumped to the side of the boat as it sprang forward, magically propelling itself across the lake while the other vessels did the same. Leaning back, James ran his hand through the water as the others sat in silence, occasionally flicking water onto the side of the boat. However, he quickly drew his hand back in horror as he spotted a silhouette of a giant squid swimming underneath the surface, and he resolved to spend the rest of the journey with his hands folded in front of him.

Several minutes after they had started out from the shore, the fog began to clear from around the boats, and the first-years began to murmur with excitement as the black outline of a castle suddenly appeared against the darkening skyline. When they finally bumped against land again, James scrambled out of the boat while the other boys in his vessel followed behind him. Together they and the other first-years trooped up the small hill to the Hogwarts castle after the looming form of Hagrid. Shivering, they entered the massive double doors and admired the intricacy of the Entrance Hall, which was topped with a high, stone ceiling and decorated with four over-sized hourglasses; each of the glass cases held thousands of gems unique to the hourglass, including diamonds, emeralds, rubies, and sapphires. At the moment, all of the jewels sat on the top half of the hourglasses, their weight impossibly supported by the half-domes beneath them.

A little distance away from the hourglasses stood an imposing-looking female professor with a tight, gray bun under her pointed hat. When he neared the aging witch, Hagrid stopped and gestured for the first-years to do the same.

Peering down her spectacles at the new students, the witch scrutinized them carefully before speaking. "I am Professor McGonagall, head of Gryffindor house and Deputy Headmistress. I will be escorting you into the Great Hall for the Sorting ceremony. Keep in an orderly line as you follow me, and wait for your name to be called before stepping up to the front."

After her brief introduction, she swept around and started off in the direction of another pair of double doors, walking briskly. Giving Sirius an alarmed look, James hurried after Professor McGonagall while the other students scurried along.

When she reached her destination, McGonagall pushed open the doors to the Great Hall and walked across the room towards the High Table at the end, where the other staff members waited. Looking around, James spotted Hogwarts' famous Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, seated in the center, overlooking the four long tables filled with returning students stretching down the length of the Hall. Above James' head, the Great Hall's ceiling magically sparkled with a few specks of starlight where not covered by fog, a perfect replica of the night sky outside.

As she approached the High Table, Professor McGonagall motioned for the first-years to wait as she approached a small stool with a tattered, pointed hat sitting on top of it, pulling out a long scroll from the inside of her robes. Although everyone seemed to be waiting for Professor McGonagall to speak, she herself appeared to be waiting for some unknown signal. Glancing around shyly, the first-years observed each of the four Houses' tables while several bluish ghosts shimmered around the Great Hall in anticipation.

Finally, the silence was broken by a booming voice, which echoed throughout the Hall. Turning to face the stool, James watched as the pointed hat opened its ripped brim like a mouth and began to sing.

 _"The Sorting Hat am I, and why_

 _I sing to you shall be defined,_

 _For I of all old relics know_

 _Of four House founders long ago_

 _Who made this school with pride and care_

 _For wizard students everywhere._

 _One known as Godric Gryffindor_

 _Prized students that possessed much more_

 _Than average, standard bravery_

 _To fill his classrooms; but, you see,_

 _Salazar Slytherin deterred_

 _And said he would have much preferred_

 _Hogwarts to hold those pure in blood_

 _So as not to drag it through the mud._

 _Ravena Ravenclaw held true_

 _That the smartest students would not rue_

 _Their duties but instead succeed_

 _At what important tasks all need._

 _Helga Hufflepuff, though she agreed_

 _With Ravenclaw's hardworking creed,_

 _Said everyone deserved a chance_

 _To prove their skills in loyal stance._

 _So each of these now famous founders_

 _Worked together to join their powers_

 _And combine their creeds into a school,_

 _Now Britain's most beloved jewel._

 _Today the first-years come to me_

 _And put me on so I can see_

 _In which House they would best be fit,_

 _For everything, even the smallest bits,_

 _Of their minds I can reveal_

 _And choose a House with no repeal."_

All around the Great Hall, the sitting students clapped at the conclusion of the song, and James could not help but grin. This would be easy: they just needed to put the Sorting Hat on their heads and wait for it to tell them what to do. As silence returned, McGonagall glanced down at the roll of parchment in her hand and read the first name on the list.

"Appleworth, Rachel!"

A slim, wiry girl slunk forward to the stool and sat down with the Sorting Hat on her head as instructed by Professor McGonagall. Fidgeting, she nervously twisted one of her ringlets until the hat's brim opened again and screamed, "HUFFLEPUFF!" Clapping, the Hufflepuff table cheered supportively as the girl quickly discarded the hat to join her new Housemates.

"Avery, Conway!" Professor McGonagall called.

Stepping forward, a boy with a mess of feathery hair walked up to the stool, and he barely touched the hat to his head when it screeched, "SLYTHERIN!" Immediately the room roared again, and several Slytherins pounded Avery on the back when he slid into place at the end of their table.

Sighing, James prepared himself for a long wait, apprehension building inside his chest as Professor McGonagall gradually worked her way down the A's and into the B's.

"Black, Sirius!"

Crossing his fingers, James gave Sirius an encouraging nudge as his friend strode bravely down the hall and placed the Sorting Hat over his head. He sat on the stool for about half a minute before the hat finally broke the silence.

"GRYFFINDOR!" James' heart soared as Sirius walked proudly to the Gryffindor table and slid onto a bench next to Frank Longbottom, who gave him a welcoming clap on the shoulder.

Not long afterwards, an "Evans, Lily," was called, and the red-haired girl from the Hogwarts Express took her place on the stool. James barely had time to blink before the hat shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!" and Lily's body relaxed as she walked to the matching table, casting a sad smile back at the first-years and, James assumed, her friend Severus. When she arrived at the table, Sirius moved aside to give her room, and she seemed about to thank him before she recognized him from the train and turned around, crossing her arms.

While Professor McGonagall continued and the students cheered, James began to grow rather drowsy, but he snapped back to attention when she called for a "Lupin, Remus," and the boy with the tattered robes from the boat walked forward. Although he faced the crowd calmly when McGonagall placed the Sorting Hat on his head, he did not push it back up when it slipped down and covered his eyes. Sitting patiently, he remained there for a little over a minute until the hat finally yelled, "GRYFFINDOR!" More cheers came from the corresponding table, and James made a mental note to properly introduce himself later.

"Mulciber, Nigel" went to Slytherin, "Norfolk, Marion" to Hufflepuff, "Newshod, Alice" to Gryffindor, and "Oldenburg, Harriett" to Ravenclaw before Professor McGonagall called for "Pettigrew, Peter." Eyeing the watching crowd shyly, the portly, big-eyed boy from the boat crept forward to the stool and placed the hat on his head. He gave a slight jump afterwards, causing some tittering around the room. Anxious for his turn, James impatiently waited for him to leave, but his visit lasted longer than most. After a while, people started to whisper among the tables; apparently Peter was making quite a stir, but the Sorting Hat eventually let out a shriek.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Whether pleased they had gained another Housemate or simply glad the waiting had ended, the Gryffindor students erupted clapped ecstatically as the stunned Peter stumbled to their table. Watching the proceedings, James was caught off guard by Professor McGonagall's voice.

"Potter, James!"

Taking a moment to steady himself, James exhaled deeply before bounding up to the Sorting Hat. When it fell over his hair, he forgot the many eyes staring at him as he heard a voice echoing around his skull.

"Well, you're certainly intelligent, that's for sure," the Sorting Hat commented. "You don't need to work hard to get good grades, do you? You're also very loyal, and you would do most anything to get your way . . . However, seeing how you possess more bravery than most, I think you would work best in GRYFFINDOR!"

Shocked by the loud exclamation, James forgot to grin until he was halfway to the Gryffindor table. Its inhabitants cheered wildly as he attempted to make room between Sirius and Lily, pushing them apart. Giving him a brief glower, Lily refused to answer his pardon when he sat down, and James decided to ignore her and watch the rest of the few first-years make their rounds. When McGonagall called for "Snape, Severus," the greasy-haired boy from the train barely had time to lower the hat to his forehead before it screamed, "SLYTHERIN!" Standing up off the stool, he quickly joined the appropriate table, sinking next to a startlingly blonde prefect who welcomed him with a grand smile and a hard pat on the back.

Soon after, the Sorting Hat came to a close, and Headmaster Dumbledore stood up from his chair and raised his arms. Quickly quieting, the room waited as Professor McGonagall took a seat and Dumbledore spoke in a deep voice.

"Welcome, first-years, and the same to returning students." Smiling genially out at the crowd from behind his half-moon spectacles, he spread his arms out and gave James a better view of his deep purple robes and waist-length white beard. "Many things deserve to be said from me to you and from friend to friend, but I rather think the latter is more important, so eat up!"

Dumbledore clapped his hands, and fancy dishes appeared out of nowhere and instantly covered the tables, filled to the brim with various delicacies. Cheering briefly, the students turned their attention to the food as the Headmaster sat back down and started talking with the other professors animatedly.

Smiling excitedly, James helped himself to a portion of steaming plums, and Sirius picked up a seasoned duck wing. His mouth filled with mashed potatoes, Frank leaned towards the new arrivals and said, "Hogwarts has the best food, and Headmaster Dumbledore the best speeches. Welcome to Gryffindor."

"Thanks!" James replied, and he turned to Sirius excitedly. "It's great you ended up in Gryffindor! I was worried for a minute there."

Sirius grinned happily, his fork halfway to his mouth. "Well, goodbye Slytherin." Chuckling, James began to eat just as a cold wave of air signaled the approach of an apparition from behind him. As he leaned down, the ghost's high-plumed hat shivered while he addressed the first-years.

"Greetings, new students! I am the ghost of Gryffindor House, Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, although some students," he added with a glower at Frank, "prefer to call me Nearly-Headless Nick."

"Show 'em, Nick!" Frank pleaded.

Nearly-Headless Nick sighed, but he pushed his head to the side with one finger, and it fell sideways until it hung by only a thin tendril of ghostly flesh. Staring at him, James gaped in awe as Peter, sitting on the opposite bench, let out a surprised squeak. Looking humbly proud, Nick moved his head back into place. "Well, I hope you'll do Gryffindor credit. The Houses have an ongoing battle, you know, with what the House points you receive for good grades and whatnot."

"House points?" Peter asked nervously.

"Surely you noticed the hourglasses when you entered the Great Hall?" Nearly-Headless Nick inquired. "Each House keeps track of its points with the gems inside. You'll notice Gryffindor has the rubies to match the House colors. Anyway, enjoy your meal," he sighed, gazing at the food with longing as he drifted away.

When he left, Frank reached across the table to tap his fingers in front of Peter, who looked up from his full plate in surprise. "So you were a Hatstall," Frank stated simply. "You sat there for more than five minutes."

Shrugging shyly, Peter stared at him curiously. "Is that a bad thing?"

"No," Frank answered, going back to his pile of dumplings. "Just unusual."

"So why did it take so long to Sort you?" Arnold asked Peter curiously.

"Oh," he began shyly, "it was just wondering whether or not I should be in Slytherin after all—"

"Slytherin?" James interjected, staring at him.

"Slytherins aren't all bad, you know," Frank defended, glancing over at the neighboring table. "They can be a bit ambitious sure, but that's not necessarily a bad thing. They're just . . . a little misunderstood, that's all."

"For good reason, don't you think?" James asked. "Most Dark wizards have come from Slytherin."

"And quite a few from Gryffindor," Frank added with a shrug, and James just shook his head. After another bite, he leaned over the table and extended his hand towards the other boy from the boat, who was eating in silence.

"I'm James."

He took his hand and gave it a short shake. "Remus."

"It's kind of funny we all ended up in the same House, huh?" James asked the three first-year boys. They nodded, and James poked Lily in the ribs with his elbow. "Kind of makes you think you should've been in our boat, too, huh?"

Pushing him away, Lily gave him a disgusted look. "I don't think there was room, with what your ego and all."

James scowled as Sirius laughed appreciatively and slapped the table. On the other side of the table, Peter giggled hesitantly while Remus raised an eyebrow. "Sorry, I forgot," James retorted. "You had a date with Snivellus over there."

"Sev. Er. Us." Putting her back to him, Lily turned to Alice Newshod, a round-faced girl with bright, brown eyes, and asked loudly, "So where do you live?" Rolling his eyes, James turned away to finish his dinner as they and the other Gryffindor first-year girls started chatting.

When the feasting students had finally begun to lose their fervor, Dumbledore stood up again and gestured for attention. "Once again, welcome to Hogwarts! I see many returning students in the crowd as well as several promising new faces. However, before you run off to your dormitories, let me make a few security announcements. The Forbidden Forest by the castle remains so, and no student may venture into it without permission from a staff member. Also, a rather vicious breed of Whomping Willow has been added to the school grounds this year, and I recommend that all students keep their distance. In addition, our caretaker Argus Filch would like me to remind all first-years that casting spells in the hallways will not be tolerated. For further information about our policies, you will be able to find the full list of school rules tacked outside of his office."

"Well, I won't be needing that," James whispered to Sirius, nudging him.

"Why, do you know all of them already?" Peter asked, having overheard. Everyone within earshot turned to stare at him, and his cheeks flushed as he looked down.

"One thing more remains to be said," Dumbledore continued. "I am sure many of you have heard of the anti-Muggle protests that have been circulating the last few months." Immediately the room's murmuring stilled as everyone turned to listen carefully. "Although all students are quite safe here, Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher Ignacius Rainhill will be adding some extra techniques to your lessons." Glancing down the row of chairs at the staff table, James waited for someone to raise his hand or nod in recognition, but nobody moved. "Other than that, you will remain safe within these walls as long as you recognize the curfew and do not venture into the Forbidden Forest. All Houses are excused to their dormitories." When he ended, he bowed his head and sat as the Great Hall burst into motion.

"First-years! First-years follow me!" a Gryffindor prefect yelled, standing up and waving at the newcomers. Pushing up from the bench, James followed the prefect's loud shouting. "I'm Josiah Crawley, everyone. Follow me to the Gryffindor common room; I'll show you the way once and once only."

The small group of first-years trooped after the prefect, climbing up winding stairs and twisting through multiple hallways. Quickly becoming disoriented, James tried to keep a clear head through the maze of rooms, barely taking in their leader's continual chatter about the purpose of various halls and doorways throughout the castle. As the party reached an apparent dead-end at the top of yet another set of stairs, Josiah stopped and turned around.

"This is Gryffindor Tower, and here's the entrance to the Gryffindor common room," he told the first-years, gesturing to a portrait of an overweight woman dressed all in pink. "The Fat Lady guards the door." Bored, the woman casually waved to the first-years. "Just tell her the password, and she'll swing open. We change the password every once and a while, but right now it's kettledrum."

Yawning, the Fat Lady swung her portrait open, revealing a homely room with multiple armchairs and a crackling fire. Climbing in, the newcomers gazed around in awe, looking at the scarlet curtains framing the quickly dimming sunset. Thick carpets sunk under the weight of their shoes, and the chattering of a few scattered veteran students filled the room with a welcoming feel.

"All right, the girls' dorms are up that way, and the boys' are up those stairs," Josiah informed them, pointing in the appropriate directions. "Make yourselves at home."

Although the musty scent of the common room encouraged lingering, James headed for the stairs to the boys' living quarters at once. When he and the other first-year boys located their room, he opened the door to reveal a comfortable space with four beds situated around the walls. An impatient hoot near the foot of one of the four-posters signaled Hardwin's presence, and James rushed over to free him from his captivity. Leading him to the window as the others oriented themselves, he opened the glass panes and set the owl on the sill.

"Go on, get some fresh air," James suggested, and Hardwin lifted his wings and vanished into the dark, outside world. Eyes drooping, James turned around and quickly changed from his robes into his pajamas. When he finished, he waved tiredly to the others and crawled into his four-poster. "Goodnight, guys."

Echoing his sentiments, the others all gradually crawled into their four-posters, Remus not even bothering to change. Although James' mind teemed with excitement for the day ahead, sleep came to him in only a few short minutes, and he welcomed the blackness as it closed in around him.


	3. The First Day

**The First Day**

The next morning, all four boys entered the Great Hall together and sat down at the Gryffindor table before their first class of the year.

"Potions," Sirius read aloud off their class schedule, frowning. "Not exactly the most exciting class. Great, it's a joint lesson with the Slytherins, too."

"And in the dungeons, of all places," James added as he took a bite.

"The dungeons?" Peter asked, mouth opening in surprise.

"Yeah, I heard they used to hang students up down there by their thumbs," Sirius told him, still looking over the schedule. Nervous, Peter gulped.

"Let me see that," James told Sirius, taking the roll of parchment from him. "At least we have Defense Against the Dark Arts today. Charms is tomorrow, followed by Transfiguration, Astronomy, and blah, blah, blah . . ."

"Are Blah, Blah, and Blah actual classes, or are they just indicative of your reading ability?"

James looked up and glared at Sirius, but he grinned and shook his head, pointing instead at Remus.

"I mean, I find it highly unlikely three classes would be named the same thing," Remus continued as he swallowed a mouthful of food, "but you also strike me as a very intelligent person, so I could be wrong." After a lengthy pause, he looked up into the others' stunned faces.

"He talks," Sirius finally managed. Reddening, Remus looked down again, and James grinned.

"Hey, you're not bad," he said before looking back down at the schedule and standing up. "Blimey, class starts in ten minutes. We'd better get going."

Using the instructions of several older passersby, James and the others eventually made their way to the dungeons at the bottom level of the castle. Wrinkling his nose as he caught a strong whiff of a burning concoction, James suppressed a strong sense of entrapment as he stepped through the metal-framed door leading into the classroom. Inside lay several tables with pewter cauldrons on top of them, and multiple students had already claimed their places around the room. James spotted Lily Evans chatting amiably with Alice Newshod, and he turned and headed to a back table with Sirius. When he sat down, he watched Peter hesitate for a moment before tagging along with Remus to a neighboring table, and he faced forward again only to grimace at a greasy head in the front row. Having turned around at the sound of their entrance, Snape looked back in distaste and continued to carefully peruse his textbook. Only a few moments later, a heavyset man with a walrus mustache walked in, boasting robes of dark purple and a matching tufted hat.

The golden-haired wizard gave a wide smile and extended his hands. "Welcome, first-years! I am Professor Horace Slughorn, Head of Slytherin House and Potions Master. I am pleased to see all the new faces; hopefully some of you will turn out to be promising pupils," he added with a waggle of his eyebrows. Narrowing his eyes, James glanced at Sirius, who looked equally on guard.

"We're going to keep things simple today and start out with Cure for Boils, the instructions for which you will find on this board," Slughorn announced, tapping his rather short wand on a blackboard behind him and causing cursive lettering to appear. "No need for your books, but you may use them if you'd like. This will just test your basic skills so I can better prepare my future lessons. Feel free to work in pairs today," he ended with a clap of his hands, rubbing them together excitedly under his beaming smile.

Motioning they should share the cauldron on their table, James looked from Sirius to the board while the other students sprang into motion. Squinting his eyes, he read the first set of instructions. "Beat six snake fangs to a fine powder in mortar." Looking down, he watched Sirius pull aside six fangs from a small pile on the wooden tabletop. "Beat to fine powder . . . . So how fine is fine?" James asked quizzically.

"No idea," Sirius replied, dumping the fangs into a waiting pot and attacking it with a pestle. Eyes wandering, James studied the first-years around the room. Avery and Wilkes, two of Slytherin's newest recruits, appeared to be struggling to keep their fangs inside of their bowl while they stirred viciously; a few desks down and to the left, Alice read the instructions to Lily as she worked steadily; unsure of what to do, Peter stood loyally by Remus as he rapidly compared their progress to the example in Beginning Potions. A sprinkling sound like sand falling into water caught James' attention, and he turned to see Snape pouring what remained of his fangs into his cauldron. Surprised and alarmed by his quick progress, he looked back at Sirius as he pushed the mortar back satisfactorily.

"What's a measure?" Sirius asked. "We need four of them."

Unsure of the answer, James wrinkled his nose again and glanced at Snape as he lit a fire underneath his pot, and he looked unhappily back down at the damaged fangs in their bowl. Taking a pinch of the mixture, he dropped it into the cauldron and added three more. "Eh, there's hardly anything left, might as well add it all," he compromised, dumping the rest into the cauldron.

"Okay, now we heat it," Sirius said, lighting a flame and measuring the temperature of the fire until it reached 121 degrees Celsius. The two boys counted impatiently to ten before taking the heat off, and James waved his wand over the potion before glancing at the instructions again.

"Wait, it has to sit for 33 to 45 minutes?" he exclaimed incredulously. "Why are we even here?" Sharing a horrified look with Sirius, he resolved himself to a period of pure boredom.

Eventually James began to whistle while Sirius took a catnap, and he watched Professor Slughorn from across the room. The pot-bellied wizard had apparently decided to spend the class period walking around the room and conversing with whichever students he found the most interesting. Striking up a friendly discussion with Lily near the front, he talked animatedly while Snape also watched the conversation, hand twitching involuntarily as he waited for his potion to finish sitting. Twenty minutes later, James had almost fallen asleep with Sirius when Professor Slughorn suddenly loomed over their table and cleared his throat loudly.

"How's it coming along?" he boomed, and Sirius jolted upright, jerking his feet off of the table. Peering over the top of their potion, Slughorn frowned slightly. "What are your names?" he asked the pair, looking back at them.

"James Potter," James answered.

"Not the Potter family, surely?" Professor Slughorn all but gasped, looking at James with interest. "Fleamont Potter, the creator of Sleekeazy's Hair Potion?"

"My father," James told him, unable to suppress a smirk.

"I heard he created quite a fortune from that stroke of genius," Slughorn commented approvingly. "Wherever did he come up with the name?"

"He named it after his old cat," James explained, and Professor Slughorn chuckled before turning to Sirius.

"And you are?"

"Sirius Black," Sirius added hoarsely before clearing his throat violently and coughing once.

Slughorn broke into a smile. "Ah, Black, one of the sacred twenty-eight families of pure-bloods? Yes, a very fine lineage indeed . . ." He trailed off as he observed the potion again. "Well, keep up the work," he said to the two of them as he walked off.

Sharing a look, the boys sighed and went back to positions of comfort. After several more minutes, James lifted his head to see Remus and Peter scooping a gooey substance into their potion; alarmed, he glanced around the room and saw the rest of the students working hard. Hitting Sirius, he gestured towards the others, and they both sat up and peered into their cauldron; a blackened film had appeared on top, and James pushed it to the side with a ladle as Sirius read the next set of instructions.

"Four horned slugs. Well, that's easy; one's teaching this class." Issuing a massive snort, James clapped his hand to his mouth to keep from laughing, and he passed the giggles to Sirius as they finished up their work. Capping a bottle full of their potion, James scurried to the front desk and slammed down their contribution, making it just as the rest of the students had finished turning in their work. Slightly alarmed, he noticed the dark purple hue of his vial standing out against the clear pink of the other glasses.

"Thank you, thank you," Professor Slughorn said as everyone headed back to their tables. "You are all excused."

Relieved, James gathered his belongings and started towards the door to escape the dungeons, but he spied Professor Slughorn motioning to Lily and Snape out of the corner of his eye. Beckoning Sirius, he fell in step behind the other first-years and slipped behind the door of the classroom to spy on the conversation. Hidden from the view of anyone inside the room, the two peeked through an open crack in the entrance.

"Are these yours?" Slughorn asked Lily and Snape, holding up two vials of clearest pink. When they nodded, he beamed and shook his head. "I pride myself in recognizing talent when I see it, and I must say these are some of the finest examples of Cure for Boils I have ever seen. Do you have much experience with potion-making?"

"No, sir," Lily answered first. "I've never made a potion before. My family is non-magical." After nodding, Slughorn looked expectantly at Snape.

"Not exactly, sir," the boy replied, glancing furtively at the wall through his greasy bangs. "I couldn't get my hands on much at home."

"Well, this makes your skills doubly impressive!" Slughorn praised. "I am delighted to award each of your Houses twenty points. Do you two have any interest joining a group of some of my other students next month for lunch? It's hardly a formal gathering, but I'd be honored to have you."

"Why'd you only invite us?" Lily demanded smartly, narrowing her eyes.

"Well, I thought you'd enjoy some time away from your studies, which you have obviously been attending to very carefully," Slughorn answered, laughing at his own joke. When Lily studied him suspiciously, he patted her on the shoulder and beamed. "That's settled, then! I'll see you on the second Saturday of next month at three o'clock. Delighted to have such promising students this year."

Giving her eyes a slight roll, Lily nevertheless smirked slightly as the professor guided her out of the room with Snape. As the door shut behind them, they spotted James and Sirius and glared in annoyance.

"Were you spying on us?" Lily asked, indignant.

"No, just admiring the back of the door," James replied, tracing a dark line in the wood with his finger.

"Keep your nose where it belongs, Potter," she told him angrily before turning and stomping down the hall.

"Don't forget your friend!" he called after her as Snape scowled at them and followed her. "You wouldn't want to leave him with the rest of us riff-raff!"

"Did you get a load of that Slughorn?" Sirius scoffed as Lily and Snape disappeared and he and James starting heading to their next class. "He was practically kissing up to them, and they were eating it up!"

"I can't believe Evans is falling for that!" James agreed. "She seems a mite smarter than Snivellus Greasy over there; you'd think she'd see through him."

"Maybe she likes the attention," Sirius huffed, and they passed the rest of the walk in silence.

When they finally reached the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, most of the other students had already taken their seats, and Remus threw them a questioning look that seemed to ask, "Is-this-going-to-be-a-regular-thing?" Ignoring him and the rest of the staring first-years, James slipped into a vacant desk near the center of the room and glanced around while Sirius chose the desk to his right. Nothing extraordinary set the room apart from any other, but at least the windows provided a nice view of the mysterious Forbidden Forest surrounding the castle. Suddenly, something moved in the corner of James' vision, and he stared straight ahead at the lone desk in the front of the room.

An old wizard James had not noticed before was standing motionless behind the desk, his eyes closed and his patchy beard failing to cover most of his deep wrinkles. Amazed at the man's evident age, James leaned to the left to see around Alice's head, but nothing happened. After several long moments, he was no longer sure the wizard, who he guessed was the Professor Rainhill Dumbledore had mentioned at the start-of-term feast, was actually breathing at all. Some of the other students began to shuffle in their seats, and James had finally decided their professor was dead when Rainhill opened his eyes and looked up.

"Defense Against the Dark Arts." Nodding slowly, he waited as another pause drifted around the stuffy room and into the students' throats. "Unfortunately, though so young, you may be needing use of it soon," he finally added wheezily, nodding slowly. "With the rise of the Dark Lord and the death of several Muggle citizens thus far, this generation needs significant training." Although James straightened in excitement at the prospect of learning more about the Muggle attacks, Professor Rainhill only exhaled painfully before continuing. "That's why we will start with spells this year. Take out your wands, please." A flurry of movement met his words, and soon all the students had their wands in hand. "One of the most basic spells you will need to know is the Wand-Lighting Charm, and while you may say this is useless for anything more exciting than late-night reading, it has the potential to temporarily blind an attacker in a duel or illuminate their next moves. Page 27 in your books explains the spell in detail, but I will provide a demonstration for you."

As Rainhill slowly shuffled out from behind his desk, James tapped his fingers agitatedly, waiting impatiently for the professor to display the charm. When he finally stopped in the middle of the room and raised his wand, the old wizard sighed slightly and stilled. After yet another significant pause, the class sat back in their seats as the tension began to dissipate. Then, as if waking back up from slumber, Professor Rainhill snapped, " _Lumos_!" and swung his wrist. Several students gasped in appreciation as a shining, white light appeared on his wand-tip, and he turned to give everyone a good look. "Depending on your willpower, the light may range from feeble to brilliant. Now line up, and let's see some attempts," he told them, turning around languidly and dragging his feet to the far side of the room.

Excitedly scrambling into a line, the students abandoned their books and brandished their wands excitedly. After getting into place, James snapped his wrist upwards and said, " _Lumos_!" Although nothing happened at first, he tried again and felt a pulse in his wand as a small light appeared on its tip and shone on the wall in front of him. Several tries later, he managed to make the glow both a flicker and a blazing beacon, to the satisfaction of Professor Rainhill when he passed.

"Well," he told James with a lengthy sigh, "I suppose you have no further need to practice this spell. Go ahead and try the Disarming Charm on the next page," he suggested, inching away.

By the time the lesson ended, James had paired up with Remus, who had also excelled at the Wand-Lighting Charm, and had traded off with him practicing the Disarming Spell. Both had knocked each others' wands out of their respective hands with cries of " _Expelliarmus_ ," and since the other students had had more difficulty with the first spell, the class's only assigned homework was practicing the Wand-Lighting Charm.

"That was awesome!" James exclaimed as he exited the classroom with the other Gryffindors, throwing his arms into the air. "And no homework to boot!"

"None for _you_ ," Sirius corrected, casting a slightly annoyed look at James and Remus. "Professor Wrinkles wasn't impressed with all of us."

"That's okay," Peter told Sirius. "You can do your homework with me!"

"I didn't say I was going to do it!" Sirius objected.

Entering the Great Hall for lunch, the four headed towards the Gryffindor table, and James looked forward to eating a fulfilling meal. However, just as he and Peter began to fill up their plates, a voice cried, "Wotcher, Sirius!" and a seventh-year Slytherin with a wild mess of dark, frizzy hair attacked Sirius' back, grasping him in a hug and rotating from side to side. Gasping in objection, Sirius wriggled out of the girl's arms and glared at her as the others turned to watch.

"Andromeda, don't do that!"

"I saw you in the Sorting Ceremony, and I've been looking for you all day!" Andromeda announced excitedly, her heavily-lidded eyes sparkling. Slightly taken aback by the girl's voracious welcome and her vividly green robes, James forgot to continue dishing up his food. "Gryffindor, huh?" Andromeda asked, smiling around at the other boys with her hands on her hips. "I wouldn't think you'd end up in here."

"Is there something wrong with Gryffindor?" James asked defensively.

"Not if Sirius is in it," she answered, still grinning. "Are these your friends?" she asked Sirius.

Patting his robes down, Sirius replied shortly, "Those are my roommates: James, Remus, and Peter."

"Nice," she commented distractedly while waving condescendingly at a pair of blonde, scowling Slytherins seated at the adjacent table. "I should probably get back, Sirius; I bet Cissy's raving mad, and her boyfriend, too. She's been going steady with Lucius Malfoy for a couple of years now, you know. They hate Gryffindors." She squeezed Sirius one last time before waltzing off. "Don't be a stranger! I'll catch you later!"

Watching the receding figure of Andromeda, James pivoted on the bench and asked Sirius, "Who's that?"

"My cousin," he answered, still straightening his robes.

"Naturally a Slytherin then," James commented, watching as Andromeda plopped down next to the grimacing blonde girl.

"Well, she's my favorite cousin. Not so bad, really, or at least not as bad as her sisters," Sirius told him distractedly, suddenly engaged in the lunch selections. "Narcissa's too snotty, and Bellatrix is a piece of work."

Nodding over a mouthful of food, James waved his fork at Remus. "Hey, are your parents magical or what?"

"My dad's a wizard, and my mum's a Muggle," Remus replied, sucking on the end of a chocolate bar he had pulled out from his robes' pocket. "He told her before they married though, and she was thrilled."

"Huh, my parents are the opposite of yours," Peter interjected. "My mum's a witch, and my dad's a Muggle. He left a little after I was born," he added quietly, suddenly growing red. Not knowing what to say, James remained silently chewing as he threw a glance at Sirius, who looked no more comfortable than he.

"That's tough, mate," Sirius finally supplied, and the boys ate in silence for the rest of the meal.

When they had finished eating, the four exited the castle and headed towards the Quidditch pitch, where they would attend their first flying lesson with the other first-years. Breathing in the flowery afternoon air, James smiled in admiration of the circular field. Turning to the others, he commented, "These flying lessons are such a waste of time. I was practically born on a broomstick."

"I've ridden one a couple of times," Sirius replied. "I never had much time for practice though, because my family lives in the middle of a Muggle town."

"I was upset first-years couldn't bring their own brooms to Hogwarts," Peter added as Instructor Zunderfield hushed the students and ushered them into a line in front of several broomsticks.

Standing with his hands behind his back, Zunderfield allowed his long, auburn ringlets to fly in the breeze as he addressed the students methodically. "Line up on the left side of the brooms, please." Everyone obeyed, robes ruffling in the wind. "Put your right hand out and command the broom up."

Reaching out his hand, James spoke, "Up," and the school broomstick immediately snapped into his grasp. To his pleasure, he was the first one to succeed, although several other students managed after a few attempts. Further down the line, Lily struggled with the task, but she finally made her broom comply a few moments before Snape and Peter grasped their own. Holding a broom at the ready, Instructor Zunderfield waited for all the students to finish before speaking again.

"Now mount your brooms and wait for my mark," he said, putting a whistle between his flashy white teeth. "Kick off and remain steady about four feet above the ground. One . . . two . . . three!"

Blowing his whistle, Instructor Zunderfield waited as everyone pushed off of the ground before walking down the line of students to correct their positions. Yawning widely, James observed the first-year Slytherins Mulciber, Avery, and Wilkes looking likewise uninterested at the slow-moving exercise. Ruffling his hair importantly, he smirked at them, and they scowled in return as Zunderfield began an extensive monologue on the wizarding game of Quidditch.

"These flying lessons will only occur occasionally throughout your first year, as broom handling is not a necessary skill unless you wish to join your House's Quidditch team," he told the students as he worked. "Many of you will desire—and fail—to master the skills necessary of even a recreational player. Quidditch is a physically demanding sport, especially for the three Chasers, who keep the Quaffle in the air and attempt to score goals," he explained, motioning behind his back to the three golden hoops on each side of the field, "and both Beaters, who keep the Bludgers from maiming their teammates. The Keeper defends the hoops while the Seeker searches for the Golden Snitch to collect 150 points and end the game."

"Sounds like airborne football to me," Lily leaned over and whispered to Alice, who giggled appreciatively. Unamused, James glared in their direction as Zunderfield reached the end of the line.

"Loosen your grip and relax your muscles," he told everyone. "On my mark, begin flying, but stay low to the ground."

When the whistle blew again, James zipped in a circle around his roommates, grinning when Peter shook unsteadily from the wind. Hooking his knees around his broom handle, he let himself hang upside down and crossed his arms behind his head. "Come on, just lean forward," he urged happily, drifting slowly by in a second pass.

Sirius smiled and skimmed rapidly away while Remus followed more slowly, brow creased in concentration. Staying by Remus' side, James trailed his friend around the pitch until he finally gained enough confidence to circle the grass at a greater speed. They raced each other in wide laps, leaving Peter near the middle of the field with several other struggling students. As Instructor Zunderfield turned to address a stocky Ravenclaw girl, James passed near the uncoordinated Snape and bumped his shoulder; caught off guard, Snape slipped forward and hit his forehead against his broomstick's handle, gasping in pain.

"If you'd actually wash your hands, you might be able rid of the grease long enough to stay on your broom," James suggested to Snape, drawing a few laughs from the nearby students.

"Bugger off, Potter!" Lily exclaimed in indignation, flying forward to defend her friend shakily.

"Hey, it's honest advice," James defended jokingly, twirling around on his broom as the spectators laughed again.

Sneering, Snape wiped his bruised forehead with his sleeve. "You might want to stick to your own, Potter," he spat.

Confused at Snape's pointed words, James looked over his shoulder at the stands, and he glanced around in confusion until he suddenly heard a grunt from above. Snapping his head in the direction of the sound, he spotted Mulciber just as he dove at Sirius again, nearly knocking him off of his broom while Avery and Wilkes watched from the side. Gritting his teeth in fury, James shot upwards and rammed into Wilkes' side just as he prepared for a dive. Thrown off balance, Wilkes spun around twice and slowed to a crawl, tossing his blond hair out of his eyes as he approached menacingly with the other Slytherins at his side.

"Back off. This isn't your fight," he told James, muscles popping as he clenched his broom handle.

"You made it my fight when you attacked my friend," James retorted.

"Black disgraced his family," Mulciber growled, his voice as thick as the rest of him. "Now back down before we have to punish you, too."

Rolling his eyes, James groaned. "Come on, now! Are you angry at him just because he's not in Slytherin?" Looking over his shoulder, he asked, "Want to show them something, Sirius?"

Regaining his balance, Sirius flicked his hair out of his eyes. "Let's."

Swooping at the Slytherins with Sirius, James threw in a tight spin as he neared to hit the two boys on either side of him. His broom caught Wilkes on the face, and the light-haired boy gasped as a scratch appeared across his cheek. Quickly giving chase, the Slytherins zoomed after James and Sirius as they shot across the pitch. As they began to near a tower in the stands, James nodded at his friend and slowed down almost imperceptibly, allowing their pursuers to gain ground. Just when they were about to crash into the tower, Sirius jerked to the side and James flew straight upwards, causing the others to tear through the fabric covering the wooden support beams. Slowing to a halt back in the center of the field, James stepped off his broom beside Sirius, watching the Slytherins tumble to the ground with pleasure.

"What happened here?" Instructor Zunderfield called out, running to the foot of the tower and helping Mulciber up. After seeing the damage to the tower and the three boys, he glared around the field at the silent spectators. "Anyone? Can anyone tell me what happened?"

Although Lily's mouth twitched, no one spoke. Finally, Zunderfield turned back to the three boys in disgust. "Fine. The lesson is over. Leave your brooms."

Dropping his broomstick onto the ground, James strutted across the field with a short wave at Snape's angry glower. "Let's do that again sometime," he suggested to Sirius, who grinned and winked at Wilkes as they passed by the ruined tower. When he and the other two Slytherins glared threateningly back, James smiled and could not help but feel that his first day enrolled at Hogwarts had been a success.

* * *

 **Be sure to check out Chamber of Secrets - The Next Generation _if you have time! The author_ _does an excellent job of creating a fun, uplifting, and intriguing plotline as Luna Lovegood's twin boys begin their years at Hogwarts. Another of her stories is a recap of_ The Prisoner of Azkaban _told from Crookshank's perspective, and it's a great read!_**


	4. Lucius Malfoy

**Lucius Malfoy**

As the weeks marched on, James decided he only disliked four things about Hogwarts. The first was the school caretaker, Argus Filch, and his dreaded feline assistant Mrs. Norris, who both patrolled the corridors to catch any misbehaving students. Whenever the mangy, red-eyed cat appeared around a corner, everyone in the hallway would immediately stop talking, regardless of whether or not the conversation held incriminating content; only a few moments later, her master would turn up, jowls flapping and heaving for breath. Filch had a particularly keen nose for trouble, and the only person in the castle he hated more than the students was Peeves the Poltergeist, second on James' list. Causing mayhem wherever he could, the shameless, orange-clad, bell-covered apparition repeatedly threw breakable objects at passing professors and flooded private bathrooms, cackling as he went. Only the mention of the Bloody Baron, the Slytherin House ghost, seemed to instill any sense of fear in him.

Third and fourth on James' list were Severus Snape and Lily Evans. Never allowing a smile to break his perpetual glower, Snape spent his time outside of classes with Mulciber, Avery, and Wilkes, but he did not seem to fully fit in even with his Housemates. As far as James could tell, no one truly liked him except for Lily, who had a frustrating loyalty to the black-eyed boy. Annoying as their friendship was, Lily seemed a fairly decent person, and James could not understand why she would befriend someone as unlikeable as Snape. Even more aggravatingly, Lily seemed to sense his disapproval and would pointedly incite further irritation by approaching Snape whenever he entered the room.

Therefore, James finally decided to execute a little revenge when the second month of the school year began. Sitting in the Gryffindor common room with his roommates, he pulled his gaze away from the fire and leaned forward. "So do any of you have plans for the weekend?"

Grateful to have an excuse to ignore his already-abandoned Charms textbook, Sirius raised an eyebrow at James expectantly. "What are yours?"

Grinning, James lowered his voice. "Tomorrow is Professor Slughorn's dinner party. Do you remember him inviting Snape and Evans? We wouldn't want to miss it."

Nodding as a smile slowly crept across his face, Sirius thought for a moment. "But how will we get in?"

"My father gave me his old Invisibility Cloak before I came to Hogwarts," James answered, puffing out his chest proudly.

"An Invisibility Cloak?" Peter asked, his words slightly muffled from a mouthful of chocolate he had managed to steal away from Remus. "I've heard about those—they're really rare!"

"Well, what do you say?" James asked Sirius. "Want to join me?"

"Sure thing," he replied, grinning back.

"We'll just tag along behind Evans when she heads out," James told him, shutting his copy of One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi. "My brain's too tired to read any more. Catch you all in the morning." Leaving the others in the common room, he headed up to their room and offered a treat to Hardwin before changing and flopping on his four-poster's soft covers, falling asleep only after the other three had followed him inside.

Paling under the light of the approaching dinner party, the next day dragged slowly onwards. To take his mind off of the long wait, James passed his time outside in the glorious sun with his roommates, where they claimed a quiet area under a large tree near the lake to complete their homework. Near evening, James and Sirius had engaged in a friendly wrestling match with Peter, who could not control his giggling long enough to gain an advantage. Eyes narrowed in concentration, Remus remained entranced with his textbooks throughout the competition, legs folded up against his chest in a stubborn sign of disinterest. Eventually the sky grew dark in the late autumn hours, and Remus claimed he could do no more work outside due to the lack of light and the noisy exclamations from the others, so they returned to their room in Gryffindor Tower.

Once upstairs, James pulled out his Invisibility Cloak from his trunk and gave Sirius a grin. "It's about time."

Admiring the shimmering Cloak, Sirius ran his hands down the sleek fabric. "Amazing. Let's do it," he agreed, allowing James to stuff the Cloak back into his robes. After crossing to the door and opening it, James paused and cast a glance back into the room.

"You coming, Remus?" he asked.

Not looking up from his book, Remus took his time in responding. "No," he finally replied. "I think I'll stay here."

Sirius and James shared a look. "You sure?" James prodded again.

"Yeah," Remus answered, rolling over on his bed so his back faced the door.

Looking up excitedly, Peter quickly petitioned, "Can I come?"

Biting his lip, James tried to come up with a response. "Uh, wait, I just realized there's probably only room for two people under here anyway," he said. "Plus, we're pretty tall. Sorry about that."

"Yeah, maybe next time," Sirius added quickly, and Peter deflated as they slowly inched out of the room.

Once they had closed the door behind them, they pounded down the stairs into the common room and waited for Lily to walk by. Sitting down on a couple of velvety armchairs, they sat for nearly ten minutes before James began to worry they had missed her. Looking around, he spotted Nearly-Headless Nick drifting around the far corner of the room and called his name.

Responding to the call, Nick floated towards him and nodded in greeting. "How are you doing, James? What can I help you with?"

"I'm fine, thanks," James responded. "We were just wondering if you've seen Evans around."

"Yes, I believe so," Nick replied, stroking his transparent beard thoughtfully. "She left the common room nearly twenty minutes ago."

"What?" James and Sirius cried at once, vaulting to their feet.

Surprised by their reaction, Nearly-Headless Nick glided back a step. "Why, do you need her?"

"Yeah, she was supposed to meet us about a homework assignment," James quickly lied. "It's really important. We've got to go!"

"Wait a minute!" Nick cried, confused, but the boys had already reached the portrait hole and had begun to bound down the winding staircase.

"Where should we go?" Sirius panted, leaping off of the last step.

"The party's probably in the dungeons or near Slughorn's office," James guessed. "Let's head that way."

Tearing through the castle, the pair managed not to intercept a single student, although several portraits called out in surprise when they rushed past. Finally, they stopped to catch their breaths, having explored the lower dungeon floors without success. Breathing heavily, James looked down the dark hall in both directions before straightening suddenly.

"Get under the Cloak!" he hissed to Sirius, grabbing it from his pocket and flinging it over the two of them. Fumbling for a moment, Sirius managed to cover his body just before a lone figure turned a corner and walked towards them, shoes clinking softly against the marble floor. Holding his breath, James prayed with all his might the intruder was not Filch, and he squinted apprehensively at the intruder.

It was Snape. Glaring at his hunched body as he walked past, James considered tripping him until a sudden nudge from Sirius tore his eyes away from the Slytherin.

"Isn't he going to the dinner, too?"

"Oh!" Realization dawning, James began to tiptoe softly down the hallway after Snape, who continued to walk at a brisk pace through the corridors.

Trailing him throughout the castle, James and Sirius stayed a good distance back so as not to alert him to their presence, but they had to speed up when they descended another level and the passageways grew shorter and more complex. Eventually Snape stole a few glances over his shoulders and slowed down in front of a heavy set of double doors, pulling on one of the large brass handles above his head to reveal a warm room full of laughter and music. James and Sirius barely had time to dart forward and run through the open door before it swung shut behind Snape, who looked around the crowded room hesitantly.

Revolving reflective balls hung from the ceiling and reflected the many guests' profiles back at them, making the room look even more packed than it already was. Garlands covered the few small windows, and confetti drifted magically through the open air, falling on the heads of the scattered house-elves bearing silver platters of food and offering them to the guests. Near the front of the crowd, Professor Slughorn was laughing heartily with a blonde couple, but he turned to Snape at the sound of his entrance and beckoned him with his glass of Meade.

"Why, this is the boy I was just telling you about!" he exclaimed, drawing Snape to him in an unexpected one-armed hug that sent the small boy's head crashing into Slughorn's considerable girth. "You've met him, certainly? Absolutely brilliant at Potions! Why, I bet he could brew the Draught of Living Death if I asked him to," he bragged, pounding Snape on the back.

"The Draught of Living Death?" Snape gasped, partly from shock and partly from the force of Slughorn's blows.

"Yes, my boy, throws the drinker into a deep sleep," Slughorn told him heartily, apparently mistaking Snape's incredulity for lack of knowledge. "You might even be better at potions than Lucius was during his first year!"

"Is that so?" the long-haired student beside him asked, and James recognized him and his haughty companion as the Slytherins who had scowled at Andromeda Black on his first day at Hogwarts. Raising an eyebrow, Malfoy studied Snape with an expression reminiscent of a plotting carnivore while Narcissa yawned subtly.

"Indeed," Slughorn answered with pride. "Though, Severus, I should probably tell you about the first time Lucius tried making the Enlargement Potion. You see, he had to borrow a school cauldron since his was getting fixed, and the bottom wasn't properly coated. The pot started swelling to twice its size . . ."

Scooting away as Slughorn laughed at his own recollections, James and Sirius skirted along the walls and searched for a place to sit. Ducking beneath a few trailing ribbons pinned on the ceiling, they dodged two warlocks talking happily by the concessions, and Sirius slowed down long enough to snag two Pumpkin Pasties from the table. Walking to a corner of the room, they sat down in two unoccupied chairs and munched contentedly on their snack.

"Nice party," James whispered, sitting back and watching a couple dancing animatedly on the tiled floor.

"Hey, there's Evans," Sirius pointed out, pointing towards a shock of red hair. Sitting up, James craned his neck to see Lily talking with Snape, who had apparently escaped from Slughorn. Poking Sirius in warning, James got up and drew nearer to spy on the conversation.

"Honestly, I was expecting fewer people," Lily said, glancing around the room with a sigh. "The way Professor Slughorn made it sound, only a couple of his friends were coming for a meal."

"Yeah, I'm not one for parties, either," Snape told her, swirling a colorful drink with one hand.

"I don't mind them, but Slughorn treated me like a trophy for the first ten minutes until I could get away," she complained, and Snape snorted in understanding. "What took you so long, anyway?"

"Like I said, I'm not one for parties," he replied. "I wasn't sure I was going to come at first until I thought of you." A moment of silence stretched between them while they watched the dancing guests, and James was about to beckon Sirius away when Lily finally spoke.

"I've been meaning to ask you," she addressed Snape suddenly, "what's a Mudblood?" Starting in surprise, James only managed to keep concealed when Sirius jerked him back and they both froze, intently watching Snape's next moves.

"Where did you hear that word?" he asked guardedly.

"I heard Mulciber whisper it to Wilkes when I walked past them on the way to class yesterday," Lily answered.

"It's nothing," Snape brushed away, and James felt a flare of anger rise up in his chest. "It's just a nickname for Muggle-borns."

"Oh really?" Lily asked in a tone of distaste. "It must be a rather unpleasant nickname, then. I don't like the way Wilkes laughed when Mulciber said it." When Snape did not meet her eyes, she looked away and sighed. "I guess I'll go get a drink while I can. See you later, Sev."

As she stood and slipped away through the crowd, James pulled out his wand and took a step closer to where Snape was sitting. He was just about to rip off the Invisibility Cloak when Sirius pulled him backwards to make way for two approaching people. Stumbling back, James held his breath as Lucius Malfoy took Lily's seat and leaned back, Narcissa standing behind him with an expression of boredom.

"So," Malfoy drawled to Snape as he jumped upright in surprise, "Professor Slughorn seems to think very highly of you." Mouth twitching nervously, Snape shrugged as Malfoy put his hand up. "Don't look so worried. I was wondering if you could help me with a little something I'm brewing. It's . . . giving me trouble."

"Really?" Snape asked, brightening in spite of himself. "You want my help?"

"If you're really as great as Slughorn seems to think—and he usually has a keen nose for these things—I could use someone like you," Malfoy answered.

"I'll do what I can," Snape quickly agreed.

"Great," Malfoy said, standing up and offering his arm to the impatient Narcissa. "We'll talk more later. Oh, and one more thing," he added as he started to walk away, nodding once in the direction where Lily had walked off. "You might want to choose your friends a little more carefully. People are beginning to talk."

Creasing his brow, Snape bit his lip as Malfoy turned away again. Ignoring caution, James pulled out his wand before Malfoy could walk away and pointed it at his back.

" _Iratus_!" he said, but he accidentally missed his target in his fury and instead hit Narcissa in the rib cage; she fell over, screaming, as the ribbons threading her dark dress attempted to tie her struggling limbs to her body. Shocked, Malfoy froze in astonishment as the other guests turned to watch, and Snape bolted up from his spot only to trip on his own foot, knocking his beverage off of the table and onto his robes.

"Don't just stand there! Do something!" Narcissa yelled at Malfoy before screeching again as the ribbons flew up to her mouth in an attempt to stifle her cries. Jumping to the ground, Malfoy fought against the angry fabric amidst the laughing crowd while James and Sirius rushed towards the exit.

Slipping underneath the arm of an entering wizard, the two did not stop running until they ducked into an abandoned classroom. After pulling off the Invisibility Cloak, Sirius turned around.

"Nice shot, James."

"Those prats had it coming to them," James growled angrily before catching himself. "Sorry about hexing your cousin."

"No, I'm actually glad you did," Sirius replied with a sly grin. "Too bad I can't do that at home."

"Did you hear the way Snape blew off Evans like—that _word_ —was nothing?" James exclaimed hotly, pacing back and forth. Expecting immediate agreement, he stopped dead and glared at Sirius when he did not respond right away. Aware of his mistake, he nodded quickly.

"No, I know, mate," he apologized, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. "You just get kind of used to it, I suppose, hearing it about five times a day. You hardly know to call them Muggle-borns anymore."

Shaking his head, James resumed his pacing. "Well, you'd better remember," he threatened. "All that tosh about pure-blood wizards being superior to Muggle-borns is just rubbish." As his anger began to dissipate, he stopped pacing and asked, "What do you think Malfoy was talking about when he asked Snape for help?"

Sirius frowned. "I was wondering about that, too. It sounded like he was trying to get Snape

to help him on a homework assignment or something like that."

"But that doesn't make sense," James argued. "Malfoy's in his sixth year—why would he need help from a first-year?"

"He must be close to failing, then. He doesn't strike me as someone who would give up without exhausting all his options first," Sirius guessed. "Also, Professor Slughorn said Malfoy was good at Potions, so it must be something really advanced."

"Isn't that cheating?"

"Not necessarily."

"Then why didn't he ask Snape for help in front of Slughorn?"

"He probably didn't want him to know he needed it," Sirius reasoned.

"Okay, but I still don't like it," James argued, crossing his arms.

"We'll just keep an eye on him, okay?" Sirius suggested, but James got the impression he was just humoring him. Still, realizing he would not get a better reply, he simply nodded and sighed.

"Okay, but don't complain to me when you find out I'm right," he told Sirius as he opened the door and they started walking back to Gryffindor Tower.

During the next week, the castle grew steadily darker and more foreboding as decorations for the upcoming Halloween feast were draped against its interior. Peter once made the mistake of mentioning free candy and had to explain Muggle traditions to James and Sirius, who were both acquainted with costume parties but had no idea why non-magical folk would dress up as witches and wizards in an attempt to scare people ("We aren't scary!" Sirius protested); however, the subject soon dropped when Remus pointed out the other students would not be handing out any of their hard-earned sweets ("Well, it certainly isn't stopping you, is it?" Sirius pointed out, receiving an eye-roll and a square of chocolate from Remus). Nevertheless, they all appreciated the lighter loads of homework they received from their professors apart from McGonagall, who argued that Halloween was not technically a holiday while loading their desks with more assignments. Even more to James' disgust, Remus received absolutely no homework from Professor Rainhill, who seemed impressed with his skill despite his sleepy observation of the class as a whole. To the other students he assigned more practice of the Shield and Disarming Charms. "We're just doing the same things over and over again!" James remarked to Sirius once. "It's almost like he doesn't want us to move forward."

However, a general spirit of excitement filled the school during the next few days, and James nearly forgot to keep his eyes on Snape and Malfoy in the activities. When the evening of the thirty-first finally arrived, he sat down in the Great Hall with his roommates and observed the succulent dishes on the tables with delight. Tempted to take a large, swirled sucker, he remembered the opening speech grudgingly and glanced towards the staff table; immediately he marked the glaring absence of the center chair's occupant. Poking Sirius, he asked, "Hey, where's the Headmaster?"

Turning around, the other boys adopted looks of confusion. Just when Sirius opened his mouth to respond, Professor McGonagall stood up and raised her hands for silence.

"Students of Hogwarts, congratulations on reaching the end of your first full month enrolled here." Noticing the curiosity of her audience, she continued, "There is no need to worry; Headmaster Dumbledore will return soon. He received an urgent call from the Ministry of Magic and will be back by tomorrow morning. But for now, please enjoy the meal and be ready to jump back into your homework tomorrow morning."

She sat down, and the room erupted into movement. Happily ignoring everything except his plate, James devoured a slice of apple pie, a generous amount of mashed potatoes and grilled green beans, three dinner rolls, and two glasses of pumpkin juice in mere minutes. He had just begun work on the striped sucker he had eyed earlier when he caught a glimpse of a strangely bare spot on one of the Slytherin benches. Leaning to the side to get a better look, he scanned the rest of the table and straightened in alarm, grabbing Sirius' arm.

"Sirius, have you noticed how empty this room seems?"

"Of course I have," Sirius answered unconcernedly. "Dumbledore's gone."

"Not the staff table, you idiot. Look at the Slytherins."

Turning around, Sirius gave the neighboring table a quick glance. "What is it?"

"Malfoy's gone," James hissed. Both shared a meaningful glance before James jumped up from the bench.

"Where are you going?" Peter asked, voicing the thoughts of the other nearby Gryffindors as their bustling movements disturbed the peace.

"We aren't supposed to leave the Great Hall!" Remus protested. "You're going to get into trouble!"

"No time!" James answered as he pulled Sirius up with him. "We've got to go!"

Dragging the reluctant Sirius out of the Great Hall, he left the exasperated Remus behind with the other harried students. Once outside, he let go of Sirius and turned to the left at a blind guess.

"Did you see Malfoy leave?" James demanded as they ran.

"No," Sirius replied. "I don't even know if he came in. Come on, mate, I wasn't done eating—"

"Look, he could be up to anything," James interrupted angrily. "If you'd just—"

"PEEVES, I'LL GET YOU FOR THIS!"

Stopping short, the boys gave each other a quick glance. Without another word of complaint, Sirius accompanied James up a nearby flight of stairs and towards the sound of Filch's screams. Leaping over the top steps, they rounded a corner and ran into a long hallway that James supposed had once ended with a massive gargoyle; at the moment, however, the only evidence of the statue lay in heaps on the floor. Slabs of stone lay scattered across the ground, and an entire chunk of the blasted gargoyle was embedded in the breastplate of a suit of armor. Stopping short, James and Sirius put their hands on their knees and caught their breaths while they observed Filch yelling curses at the gigantic mess before him, and Mrs. Norris turned her piercing eyes towards the boys as Filch tore out pieces of his hair in agony.

"PEEVES, YOU NASTY LITTLE PIECE OF DUNG, GET BACK HERE OR I'LL HUNT YOU DOWN!"

Continuing to stare at the newcomers, Mrs. Norris let out an accusatory meow under the moans of her owner. Wilting under her gaze, the boys backed slowly down the hall and away from the destruction. Filch threw them a mournful, agonized glance as they left, continuing to paw at his face as they slipped out of sight. Once sure they had escaped, the two slowed to a walk and looked questioningly at each other.

"Well, at least—" James started, but Sirius slapped a hand over his mouth to silence him. Tilting his head in the direction of a room to the right, he stepped aside to reveal a long crack running down the barely-opened door. Scuffling noises issued from the inside the room, and curiosity overtook James before he could stop himself. Peeking through the opening, he spotted a kneeling, robed form pulling bottled ingredients out of a cupboard. Clearing his throat to alert the person to his presence, he opened the door further as the figure whipped around to reveal a pointed face and long, blonde hair.

"You?" James asked, opening the door wider and drawing out his wand.

Brushing off his robes, Lucius Malfoy stood and faced the intruders. "I don't believe we've made an acquaintance," he sneered.

"What were you doing?" Sirius demanded.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Almost imperceptibly, Malfoy slipped a small bottle into his pocket, and James raised his wand to chest height.

"Are you stealing that? Put it back."

"Get out of my way."

"No."

"You asked for it," Malfoy growled, and he quickly pulled his wand out, diving to the side to avoid James' spell. Pointing his wand at the door frame, he shouted, " _Expulso_!"

The wood splintered instantly in an explosion and crashed down to the floor, barely missing James and Sirius as they dashed inside the room to avoid it. Falling to the floor, they coughed through the dust while Malfoy ran out of the storeroom and down the hall. Hearing more footsteps replacing the first pair a few short moments later, James rolled over to see Argus Filch burst into the room with Mrs. Norris at his heels.

"Aha! I had suspected foul play when I saw two students out of the Great Hall!" he claimed, pointing his crooked finger accusingly. "Now why would students miss the feast unless they were up to something? So YOU destroyed the gargoyles in front of the Headmaster's office! And what is this?" he continued, spotting the still-open cupboard. "Stealing potion ingredients? Open your pockets!"

"But we weren't—" Sirius began.

"Open them, boy!" Filch screeched. Both James and Sirius turned their pockets inside-out while Filch viciously patted their robes down. "Hmph," he grunted when he found nothing. "Diversion and attempted theft. Sounds like an offense worthy of detention," he muttered satisfactorily, grabbing their arms in a vice-like grip and pulling them out of the room. "Wait until your Head of House hears about this," he crowed delightedly.

Knowing nothing he could say could convince Filch of their innocence, James nevertheless fought his hold all the way down to the ground floor, grinding his feet into the marble as they neared the entrance to the Great Hall. "We can't go in there!" he exclaimed. "Everyone's still eating!"

"You should have thought of that before breaking school rules," Filch cackled, kicking open the double doors and pulling the pair inside.

"Professor McGonagall!" he shouted, and the room instantly quieted as he raised his arms to shake his prey. "These two wreaked havoc in front of the Headmaster's office and tried to steal potion ingredients from a storage room!"

Greatly angered at Filch's public exclamation, James chanced a glance over at the Gryffindor table; Frank and Dill were staring unashamedly, and Alice's mouth had fallen open. James continued to watch as Remus slowly closed his eyes and buried his head into his arms. Standing up slowly, Professor McGonagall beckoned Filch closer, and he dragged James and Sirius further into the limelight. Snape grinned maliciously as they passed, and Mulciber, Avery, and Wilkes chuckled under their breaths.

"Is this true, Argus?" McGonagall asked with a dangerously tight voice.

"As sure as I'm standing here, professor," Filch answered, licking his lips hungrily.

Turning to James and Sirius, McGonagall snapped, "I am astonished with you two! Property damage is a serious crime, let alone theft. You will both serve detentions all next week on top of your regular homework and classes, and I will take 50 House points from each of you for your actions."

"But we didn't even—" James protested.

"I don't want to hear it!" Professor McGonagall interrupted. "You are to leave the Halloween feast immediately and travel straight to Gryffindor Tower."

Jerking out of Filch's strong grip, James rubbed his arm and glared up at Professor McGonagall before turning and marching down the Great Hall in a fury. Ignoring the excited whispers around him, he refused to meet anyone's eyes until he had shoved the double doors open and left the room behind.

When he and Sirius got to their room, James flopped down onto his four-poster and put his arms behind his head, thinking nonstop. Evidently Malfoy had stolen something from the supply room, but what and why? Was it for his potion? If so, he was not working on an assignment, but something much more sinister. Since Peeves had not been found in the gargoyle hall, Malfoy was probably the one who destroyed the statue as a diversion. So what was he up to?

It took a long time for James to finally fall asleep, but when his eyes began to slide shut, he promised himself that the next time he got into trouble, it would be deserved.


	5. Detention

**Detention**

When James awoke the next morning, Remus and Peter kept abnormally quiet, giving him and Sirius sidelong stares as they got ready for the day. On his bedside cabinet, James found a detention notice stating he would be aiding Professor Slughorn in his office every evening throughout the coming week. Still, when Sirius showed him his identical slip of paper, he felt somewhat mollified: at least they would be tackling their punishment together. Still, his other roommates' silence began to get on his nerves, and the atmosphere in the Great Hall did not prove any more bearable. As they walked to their seats under the bright sun of the enchanted ceiling, he and Sirius were bombarded with glares and snickers from the other students.

"I didn't even know we could lose points that fast," James heard Josiah the prefect mutter to his girlfriend, Adah Kahtri, as they passed. She nodded and did not take her eyes away from them until they passed her line of vision, heading towards an empty bench next to Dill and Arnold. When they sat down, the two second-years cast reserved looks over their shoulders before turning away coldly.

Sighing in frustration, James was grateful for the distraction provided by several dozen squawking owls swooping down from the ceiling with packages and letters clutched in their beaks. An unfamiliar tawny owl flew dangerously low over the Gryffindor table, and James was surprised when it landed directly in front of him and dropped an envelope into his lap. Ripping open the paper, he took out a brief, hand-written note as the bird flew away.

 _James,_

 _I cannot believe you would try to steal something from the castle! You have a lot of explaining to do in your next letter._

 _Your loving Mother_

Grateful his mother had at least signed with "your loving," James tucked the letter into his pocket and told himself to explain the situation later just as another owl dived low and dropped a bright red envelope on Sirius' head. Grabbing the letter before it fell off, Sirius glanced it over once and gave a low groan. He stared at the ceiling as if to compose himself before slitting the seal open with his knife and quickly throwing the letter to the floor.

"Is that a Howler?" Peter asked just before the letter exploded in an enraged female voice.

"SIRIUS CYNOSURA BLACK, WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?! I AM ASHAMED OF YOUR BEHAVIOR! WHAT HAVE YOUR FATHER AND I DONE TO DESERVE A SON AS UNGRATEFUL AS YOU? WE HAVE TAUGHT YOU NOTHING BUT NOBILITY AND HONOR, AND YOU GO AND WASTE YOUR TIME NOT STUDYING, BUT PERFORMING MISCHIEF! AS IF BEING SORTED INTO GRYFFINDOR WASN'T BAD ENOUGH! YOUR PUNISHMENT IS NOT NEARLY AS GREAT AS YOUR ACTIONS WARRANT!"

As the screaming faded away and echoed around the Hall, the red envelope enveloped itself in flames and disintegrated. Faint laughter came from the other Houses' tables as the students turned back to their meals, and even Dill and Arnold let out a few snickers. While James studied the burning ashes of the Howler, he felt a flash of anger ignite in his chest as he wondered what sort of mother would put Sirius through even more public embarrassment than he had already experienced last night. Holding his head with his hand, Sirius began to pick at his food disinterestedly. From behind, a group of giggling Slytherin girls strutted past and increased in volume; annoyed, James glared at the backs of their bobbing hair.

"We didn't try to steal anything, you know," he eventually muttered to Remus and Peter. "We were framed. It was Lucius Malfoy."

The two boys shared a skeptical glance. "Really?" Peter asked.

"We caught him stealing a bottle from an upstairs cabinet," James continued. "He had just run off when Filch found us."

"Why didn't you tell Filch, then?" Peter asked.

"Like he would believe us," Sirius muttered spitefully.

Decidedly less eager than Peter to forgive James and Sirius, Remus shook his head. "Well, hopefully you've learned not to stick your nose where it doesn't belong."

Flashing an angry glare at him, Sirius opened his mouth but was cut off by Peter. "Don't worry," he told James and Sirius, giving what he must have thought was a sagely nod. "Everyone will forget it before the week ends."

Despite Peter's promise, none of the other students in the school seemed to want to forgive James and Sirius anytime soon, especially their fellow Gryffindors, who glared with distaste whenever they passed in the corridors and muttered ungrateful comments on their way to class. James was not sure whether he preferred the hot tension to the outright mockery the Slytherins willingly gave out. "So were you trying to improve your awful grades in potions?" "Hey Black, I liked your mum's message!" However, James managed to earn back some of Professor McGonagall's good graces in Transfiguration when he turned his toothpick into a needle on his first try. At the very least, her lowered eyebrows lifted slightly when she saw the shining metal, and she let James keep it with a small nod. Still, the moment he exited the classroom he found himself surrounded once again by judgmental stares.

When the long day finally drew to a close, Remus and Peter headed back to their dormitory as James and Sirius marched downstairs to serve their detention. Professor Slughorn was standing behind a dark, wooden table in his office, hunched over an assortment of brewing potions, but he rose and extended a hand upon seeing the boys enter.

"Hello," he welcomed loudly, giving James the closest thing to an enthusiastic greeting he had received all day along with a handful of rags. "I was hoping you could wipe down some unwashed cauldrons for me this first night. They're over there." Gesturing to his left, he indicated several stacks of cauldrons almost reaching to the ceiling. Suppressing looks of horror, James and Sirius shared a pained look before getting down to work.

Scrubbing silently, they started at the bottom of the first pile while Professor Slughorn continued mixing ingredients at the table. Glancing around, James entertained himself with the room's decorations; the spacey office boasted several chintz chairs spaced sporadically along the wall, a harp which gently plucked itself in the corner, and a spectacular enchanted window which shimmered slowly to display different views. Several objects of interest sat atop the shelves of the pine bookcases, including a gold medallion, a luminous bottle of bubbling blue liquid, and a saucer with a miniature mermaid leaping out of it every few seconds. Eventually James spotted an especially intricate wooden box, and he peered over his shoulder to make sure Slughorn was still studying his cauldrons before opening the container. To his disappointment, it contained nothing more interesting than a large assortment of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, but he still treated himself to one as he continued scrubbing. After a moment, he leaned over to spit the offending leather taste behind a sofa just before Professor Slughorn looked up.

"Can you hand me that pile of fluxweed?" he asked, and James searched the shelves before spotting a dried plant and handing it over. Giving the fluxweed a sniff, Professor Slughorn dropped it into one of his solutions and watched it swirl gently.

"What are you making, sir?" James asked, partly out of curiosity and partly out of boredom.

"Polyjuice Potion," Slughorn answered amiably. "It turns you into an exact replica of someone else for an hour at a time. My apothecary has a large order coming in, see, and I need time to make some more. Plenty of wizards seem to feel the need to disguise themselves I suppose, what with the trouble about." Quieting suddenly, he frowned down at one of his potions, and James cleared his throat.

"Trouble?" he inquired, feigning ignorance.

"Oh, you know . . . the Muggle attacks. There was an incident last night near Wiltshire," Professor Slughorn replied, shaking a copy of The Daily Prophet, which had a blazing black-and-white image on the front page boasting the Minister of Magic, Eugenia Jenkins, standing in front of a dilapidated house. "Hit the news this morning. Apparently one pureblood activist or another tampered with a Muggle house. The walls and windows kept exploding on their own, and the destruction spread throughout a large portion of the town. It takes terribly powerful magic to pull off something that intense, so the authorities fear Death Eater intervention."

"Excuse me, but what are Death Eaters?" James asked as the Minister in the photograph shook her head and raised her hands in defeat, vaguely feeling as if he had heard the term before. When Slughorn admonished himself under his breath, he suddenly remembered: the two men reading the newspaper in Diagon Alley had mentioned the name.

"You-Know-Who's followers," Professor Slughorn whispered hurriedly.

"Actually," James started, "I-don't-know-who—"

"Well," Slughorn added in a louder voice, clearly eager to get away from the topic, "you'd best get back to polishing! I don't want to see a speck of grime when you're done!"

Reluctantly, James turned back to the stack of cauldrons and continued work. He caught Sirius' eye, but his friend shook his head and nodded towards the door, signaling they would talk after they had finished. As they continued scrubbing, James' anticipation kept the evening from seeming longer than any other, and soon enough he and Sirius had turned in their rags to the professor.

"Same time, same place tomorrow!" Slughorn waved at them as they exited and shut the door. As they walked down the torchlit hall, James turned to his friend.

"Do you know anything about the Death Eaters?"

Sirius shrugged. "Not much: just that they're following a pure-blood maniac with a supremacist problem. My parents sometimes talk about the newspaper articles—they agree with the Muggle attacks, of course," he added acidly.

"So who's You-Know-Who?" James asked after a thoughtful pause.

Hesitating, Sirius looked over both shoulders and lowered his voice. "He's their leader."

"Why is everyone so afraid of him?" James demanded. "Why can't they just say his name?"

"He has a way of getting around," Sirius replied somewhat defensively, straightening and speaking louder. "You never know who's on his side. I'm not afraid of him, I'm just—" Breaking off, he looked over both shoulders again and mumbled sheepishly, "I just . . . you know . . . I just don't want people to think I _approve_."

"Come on, I know you don't!" James assured him. "You're not like that!"

As they continued to walk down the corridor, Sirius shrugged again, but James thought he caught a ghost of a smile on his face. After a stretch of silence, Sirius finally spoke, his features half-hidden in the shadows created by the flickering torches.

"His name is Lord Voldemort."

* * *

Throughout the next few days, James' thoughts kept returning to the Death Eaters. Whenever he tried to concentrate on his classes' lectures, he could not help but remember the fear in Professor Slughorn's voice when he showed him the picture of the demolished house in The Daily Prophet. However, his distraction was soon replaced by horror and then bitterness when he learned from a poster in the Gryffindor common room that the Quidditch tryouts would be at the same time as his and Sirius' final detention. Unfortunately, Peter did nothing to ease James' gloom, because he kept bringing the subject up at any free moment.

"I think I'll try for Chaser or Beater," Peter speculated in their room the evening of tryouts, slipping on a coat over his turtleneck to prepare for the windy weather. "Well, probably Chaser. Yeah, I think I'll try for Chaser. Chaser's better. I think I'd do better as Cha—"

"So are you trying out, Remus?" James interrupted rudely, feeling irritated.

Remus shook his head. "I'm not really an athletic type. I'd do better in the stands."

"Want to watch me try out?" Peter asked Remus, beaming.

"Sure," he replied agreeably, drawing elongated sighs from James and Sirius.

"I'd better head out now!" Peter announced. "Wish me luck!" Waving happily to the sulking James and Sirius, he left the room with Remus.

"Fantastic," James muttered as soon as the door swung shut. "I was looking forward to tryouts."

"Eh, bad day anyway," Sirius said, pulling the window curtains together so they hid the threatening clouds. "Better get a move on."

Mumbling in grudging agreement, James pushed himself off of his four-poster and trooped down the stairs. Upon entering Professor Slughorn's office a few minutes later, he caught a whiff of the potions still simmering on the desk.

"Perfect timing, boys!" Slughorn boomed. "Get to work on these articles, please," he directed, guiding them towards an untidy stack of paper on a far table. "I want them in alphabetical order by the author's last name."

Perusing despairingly through the pile of parchment, James pulled several sheafs from the bottom of the stack and sat down with a heavy thump to begin work. Last evening, last evening, he thought to himself over and over again as the minutes ticked by. Just one more evening, and you'll be free.

Eventually a cough from Slughorn interrupted his thoughts, and, upon seeing him hunched over yet another newspaper, James did not attempt to hide his interest when he asked, "Anything more about the Death Eaters?"

Somewhat startled, Professor Slughorn jerked his head up. "What? Oh, yes, in fact, there is. Another case of the Imperius Curse at the Ministry." Shaking his head, he sighed. "Things seem to happen every day now."

"Imperius Curse, sir?" Sirius asked abruptly.

"Oh, you know, one of the three Unforgivable Cur—" Cutting off suddenly, Professor Slughorn stared at the boys. "You two shouldn't be worrying about stuff like this. You're not even supposed to know what the Imperius Curse is. Forget I even mentioned it," he ended with an air of finality, turning his back on them.

Catching Sirius' eye, James knew there was no chance they would obey his orders, and the two eagerly grabbed another stack of paper and doubled their sorting speed. Slowly the pile grew smaller and smaller as the sky darkened, and they finally finished with the last piece of parchment and threw down the stack with pride. After thumbing through the articles, Slughorn let the boys off with a final word of thanks.

As soon as they put the school dungeons behind them, James turned to Sirius. "You ready to find out what the Imperius Curse is?"

"Yes," Sirius answered, stretching and cracking his knuckles. "Time for a little mental stimulation. Do you think the library will have information?"

"Undoubtedly. You can find anything in there," James replied before stopping to think. "Still, I don't think Mr. Jaune will just hand over a book on the subject."

Snorting at the thought of the school librarian's itchy demeanor, Sirius said, "So we do the research on our own."

Shaking his head, James argued, "That'll take too long. Searching through all the books could take weeks. Let's look in the library's files instead."

"How do we do that without getting caught? Mr. Jaune's almost always at his desk," Sirius pointed out.

Smiling slyly, James pulled a small, circular container out of his pocket. "Good thing I have this with me," he said, shaking the Dungbomb.

Grinning back, Sirius pocketed the arsenal as they reached the entrance to the library. "I'll handle this. You get the files."

Entering the library innocently, the boys quickly scanned the room. Most of the students still up at this hour were a few years above James, preparing for some important test or another, and no one looked up at their entrance. Walking up to the front desk, James signed in with Sirius under the piercing gaze of Mr. Jaune, who seemed to question the motives of two young boys studying so late. Eventually the librarian just shook his head and looked back down at the parchment he was writing on, and Sirius quickly slipped to the side and uncorked the Dungbomb, tossing it under the nearest table. It bumped a student's foot, making her take a quick look underneath the desk before sitting back up and staring right at James and Sirius. To his horror, James took note of the bright red hair for the first time and began to wilt under Lily Evan's vicious scowl. Opening her mouth in indignation, Lily seemed about to call out until she paused and took a second glance under her feet. Instantly, her face paled.

 _BOOM!_

The noise and smell instantly perforated the room, causing several girls to shriek in fright from the tables. Diving to the floor as the smoke expanded, James crawled behind Mr. Jaune's desk as the librarian cried out and ran towards the commotion in a frenzy. Quickly opening a drawer, James rifled through the files to the "I" section. Desperately searching, he skimmed the information but found nothing mentioning the Imperius Curse, and he quickly switched drawers to search under "curses." It did not take long until he spotted "Curses, Unforgivable," and he chose the first book on the list before taking off and running down the shelves. Passing straight through the still-present fog, he gagged slightly on the odor on his way to the Restricted Section. Slowing down to a rapid walk, he scanned the books and pulled a few out at a time.

" _Underground Wizarding Associations of the 19th Century, Unfailing Uses of Dragon Blood_ , oh, _Unforgivable: The Dark Arts at their Worst_!"

Excitement growing in his stomach, James pulled out the book and flipped to the first chapter:

"The three Unforgivable Curses, deemed so in 1717, are the direct results of experimenting Dark wizards. Though it is still unclear who came up with the curses (Helios Jones claimed to be the creator of the Cruciatus Curse in 1708, and Gwendolyn Fae of the Imperius Curse even earlier), their effect on the wizarding world cannot be denied." Skipping the rest of the first page, James searched the second until his eyes found the descriptions. "As follows, the three Unforgivable Curses are Avada Kedavra, the Killing Curse, Crucio, the curse of intense torture, and Imperio, a mind-control curse."

Frowning at the spells' descriptions, James whispered to himself, "Mind-control?" Continuing to a chapter dedicated to the Imperius Curse, he read, "No visible display of light issues from the wand-tip at the command, and virtually no symptoms are present in the victim. Minor clues could be unusual behavior, fatigue, short-term memory loss, and slowness in responding. Although casters usually have to be close to their target in order to control their movements and decisions, some especially adept Dark wizards have been able to keep connections (albeit poor ones) over long distances."

Satisfied at the information, James slammed the book shut and shoved it back into its place on the shelf. Jogging back to the front of the library, he heard loud voices and remembered the sorry state of the study area. Once he emerged from the bookshelves, he ran up to Sirius' side and nodded subtly while they watched the proceedings silently. Mr. Jaune had finally seemed to dispel most of the smoke and smell with his wand, which was issuing a purple funnel to collect the haze. Cutting off the suction with a flick of his wrist, he turned to the panicked students standing in the corner and scowled.

"Who dropped the Dungbomb?" he demanded in a waspish voice.

No one responded, and a seventh-year Ravenclaw girl whimpered indistinctly from the back. Fighting to repress a smile, James slowly inched towards the exit.

"They did it," a voice suddenly declared, and James turned to see Lily pointing a finger accusingly at him and Sirius, her hair sticking out wispily in several odd angles. Mouth hanging uselessly open, he glanced between her and Mr. Jaune a few times before responding.

"Evans!" he exclaimed, not believing she would sell them out.

"They slipped it under my table," Lily continued, finger quivering in suppressed rage.

"Well," Mr. Jaune snapped at the culprits, "that'll be twenty points from Gryffindor each. You two can clean up the rest of this mess, and I'll be sure to talk to your Head of House about an appropriate detention."

Too surprised and angered to even protest, James watched Lily pick up her belongings with the other students. As she headed out, he noticed with vengeful pleasure the unpleasant scent still clinging to her clothes and frazzled hair. When everyone exited the library in various states of confusion and irritation, Mr. Jaune put James and Sirius straight to work with Wiz-Fizz. By the time they had returned the room to its original smell of old parchment and had put every stray leaflet and book where it belonged, it was already a few hours past dark, and they made their way back to their dormitory in silence save for their many yawns. When they arrived, they found Remus and Peter sitting on the latter's four-poster together, already dressed in their nightclothes. Peter looked distinctly disheveled, his blonde hair flying up in all directions.

"Hello," Remus greeted pleasantly, breaking off two squares of chocolate from the bar in his hand and offering one to Peter.

Offering a half-hearted smile, Peter waved at James and Sirius as he accepted it. "Hi, guys."

"How were tryouts?" James asked somewhat provokingly to match his revisiting bad mood, and he began rummaging around under his four-poster for his pajama shirt.

"It didn't go very well," Peter answered, looking down at his hands. "I didn't make it. Frank did, though."

"He tried out for Chaser," Remus explained. "He's pretty good."

"I guess I'll just have to practice more," Peter said, shrugging. "Frank says first-years never make the team, anyway. Do you want to fly with me tomorrow, James?" he asked hopefully.

Moving under his four-poster's covers, James yawned and closed his eyes. "Nope, I've got detention tomorrow."

He could have sworn he heard a cricket chirping outside before Remus sighed.


	6. Fights and Friendship

**Fights and Friendship**

November brought a drastic shift in weather; the air grew steadily colder, and the wind flew through the mountain passes with an eerie whistle. Students and staff avoided the outdoors whenever possible, and the first Quidditch match of the season ended in a close shave by the Ravenclaw team, who all looked as if they had jumped broom-first into a tornado by the end. The only Hogwarts occupants who did not seem to mind the chilling breeze were the ghosts, and James once spotted Nearly-Headless Nick in the central courtyard laughing heartily with the Fat Friar, the Hufflepuff House ghost, while the tree above them lost all of its leaves in a sudden gust. Indeed, the whole outside realm seemed as if it was sitting on its haunches, holding its breath for a tremendous attack.

In fact, every other aspect of school life fared much the same for James. Although he and Lily never outright hexed each other, they skirted around one another in the hallways while sending off waves of hatred with their eyes. Sirius did not take part in the silent glaring contests, but he very vocally made sure Lily knew she was not welcome anywhere near him or his friends, attempting to enforce the rule most heavily upon Remus and Peter. To his credit, Peter adopted a haughty air most adeptly, but Remus grew strangely irritable whenever James and Sirius pointedly turned their backs on Lily. When James first explained the episode of the Dungbomb, Remus had only rolled his eyes and sighed as if trying to explain some incredibly simple concept to a troll. "You shouldn't have done that in the library. Or," he added as an afterthought, "anywhere else."

Since he was their roommate, James and Sirius decided to shoulder through his noncompliance, claiming he was sadly misled and would come around in time. In the meanwhile, James filled Sirius in about the Imperius Curse, and Remus at least provided some extra information on the subject during Charms one morning in mid-December.

"It's causing the Ministry lots of trouble right now," he told the others as the students around them all struggled to produce a flame on their wand-tips. "The Death Eaters take over the minds of Ministry officials, and no one can tell anything's wrong. At least other Unforgivable Curses are more apparent."

"How do you know so much about this?" Sirius asked suspiciously, flicking his wrist and causing his wand-tip to spark.

"Yeah, Slughorn gave the impression little tykes like us aren't supposed to know about the Unforgivables," James added.

"My parents told me," Remus supplied, casually shooting a jet of flame across the room.

Frowning skeptically, James and Sirius looked at each other before snorting in unison. "What sort of parents do you have?" Sirius asked. "Do they _want_ to ruin your childhood innocence?"

As he laughed, Remus gave him an annoyed look. "They're not ruining anything," he snapped. "Besides, didn't _you_ two just ruin your childhood innocence?"

"Yeah, like a book's going to scar us for life," Sirius joked.

"Exactly," Remus retorted, turning back to concentrate on his work while Sirius rolled his eyes and did the same.

"Think about what you're trying to do!" Professor Flitwick cried over the voices of the spell-practitioners. "It's not unlike the Wand-Lighting Charm—it's all in the willpower!"

" _Incendio_!" Sirius commanded, and a flame leapt up from his wand-tip, quickly dying out in the air.

"So what does your dad do?" Peter asked Remus as he tried to replicate the spell, only managing to send up a weak puff of smoke.

"He's a Ministry worker," Remus answered with a clipped tone, but he seemed to soften towards Peter. "He works in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. He travels around a lot to get rid of especially nasty boggarts and stuff like that."

"He should come to Hogwarts," James commented, "and get rid of Peeves."

"Yeah," Sirius laughed, "though I doubt he could do it if even Dumbledore can't get rid of him."

"Has he even tried?" James speculated.

"Maybe he's entertained by Peeves," Remus said, shrugging. "He has a fondness for fun." Another silence drifted over the group as he waved his wand and sent up another tongue of fire. However, he eventually seemed to notice the three pairs of eyes staring at him, and he doused the flame as he looked up again. "What?"

"How do you know?" James asked slowly.

"Know what?" Remus responded just as hesitantly.

"What Headmaster Dumbledore is like," James answered.

"Well," he stammered, glancing down at the floor, "I met him once."

"You did what?!" the three others exclaimed in unison, scooting forward eagerly.

"You met him?" Peter asked breathlessly, eyes wide. "The man who defeated the Dark wizard Gellert Grindewald?"

"You met Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore?" Sirius demanded. "The man who discovered the twelve uses for dragon blood?"

"No, the other Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore," Remus answered.

"Remus, this is serious!" James interjected, determined not to get off of the subject. "When did you meet him? Does he know your parents?"

"Well, no," Remus replied slowly.

"Well, what happened, then?" Sirius asked. "Did he come for business? Were you at a big gala or something and met him afterwards?"

"Actually," Remus started to explain, a slight smirk curving his lips despite himself, "he played Gobstones with me."

Another silence followed his words. Closing his eyes, James lifted his face towards the ceiling and gave a long sigh. "The most powerful wizard of this era played Gobstones with you, and _you didn't tell me_."

"And I beat him," Remus added, raising a finger. Thoroughly nonplussed, the others only stared. "He was a good sport about the muck the last stone squirted in his beard," he continued. "Still, in all fairness, I don't think he was trying his hardest; he was holding a conversation at the same time."

Just then, Professor Flitwick dismissed the class, and Remus pocketed his wand. "It looks like class is over. Should we be off?" Standing up with a self-satisfied smile, he walked off towards the door as the other students gathered up their belongings. Staring after him, James did not even blink when Sirius whistled.

"Blimey," James breathed.

"Bless his patched socks," Sirius said. "He played Gobstones with Dumbledore."

After a moment, Peter hiccuped loudly, finally jerking the others out of their thoughts. Still recovering from their shock, they abandoned the Charms classroom and headed off towards Potions, where Remus and most of the other students were already seated at the tables. Claiming a desk in the middle of the room, James pulled out his textbook just before Professor Slughorn stepped into the room and commanded attention.

"Welcome to another lesson on Hogwarts' most fascinating subject!" he greeted, the light of several nearby candles flickering off the balding patch on his crown. James tried to suppress a groan and only halfway succeeded. "I trust you have read chapters five and six, so we will move on to the Hair-Growth Potion. The instructions are in your textbook, so find your supplies and get started. You may find a partner if you'd like."

Standing up, the students quickly grouped together around the desks and located partners. However, as Lily moved her stool closer to Alice a table ahead of James, Slughorn put his hand on her shoulder to stop her. "My dear Lily, how about you pair up with Severus today?"

Forcefully guiding her small frame to the adjacent table, Slughorn ignored Alice's indignant frown as he seated Lily down next to Snape, making Avery slide his stool over in annoyance. Eventually Alice walked over to Hillary's table, and Avery turned his back on Severus to join the other first-year Slytherins, all the while casting distrustful glances back at Lily.

Rolling his eyes at Slughorn's less than subtle plan, James turned to Sirius' desk and placed his cauldron on top. As Sirius lit a fire under the cauldron and opened a bottle of rat bile, James watched Professor Slughorn pace around the tables. A few minutes later, the professor ran across the room to aid a Slytherin girl named Carolyn Travers with her spilled potion, and James took his opportunity.

Leaning forward so Lily and Snape would overhear, he nodded at Sirius and said pointedly, "Ah, I see how it is. Professor Slughorn only wanted us in pairs so his favorites could show off together."

Those sitting nearby turned to watch as Snape gave a sharp glare over his shoulder and Lily continued to work, jaw clenched and ears scarlet. Grinning slyly, Sirius picked up on James' ploy. "Observant as always, James. Why do you think that is? Do you think he's afraid they'll lose their touch if they work separately?"

"Could be," James replied in mock contemplation. "Do you think they cheat off of each other's notes outside of class?"

Hillary stifled a giggle, but Alice clenched her jaw. "Be quiet, Potter," she muttered.

As Sirius smirked in her direction, James answered, "Hey, I'm helping you out. Isn't Evans normally your partner? You could use her skill, I see," he added as Alice distractedly missed her cauldron when emptying a bowl of powdered mint. Raising his hands in defense as her round face flushed with embarrassment and fury, he said, "I could be wrong. Maybe Evans really doesn't have skill. Tell me, when she meets Snivellus alone in the halls at night, is she trading notes with him or are they just snogging?"

Slamming her bowl down on the table, Lily whipped around and raised her wand above her head, sending some of the surrounding students diving off of their stools or below the tables. She opened her mouth to utter an incantation, but Professor Slughorn suddenly turned to face her from behind, having finished with Travers. Dropping her hand quickly, Lily gave her potion a zap with her wand, turning it a deep ruby color just as the professor approached and peered into her cauldron.

"Outstanding!" he praised, his eyes instantly lighting up. "Look at this rich red color! Perfectly done, perfectly done, a great start! Ten points for Gryffindor and Slytherin each. You two have really outshone yourselves this time," he added, giving Snape's head an appreciative pat. Immediately afterwards he withdrew his hand with a grimace and proceeded to wipe it on his robes as he walked away.

Sharing a meaningful smirk with Sirius, James felt satisfaction in the quiet titters of the first-years echoing around the room. Looking away, Lily crossed her arms and blinked repeatedly, and Snape's usual glower deepened for the remainder of the lesson. After Professor Slughorn had collected the potions and excused the class, Lily ran out of the dungeon ahead of everyone else, clutching her books to her chest. Feeling better than he had in days, James laughed as he left for History of Magic with his roommates.

"Wasn't that great?" he asked them, elbowing Sirius. Peter giggled hesitantly, but Remus glared at James.

"Was that really necessary?" he asked heatedly.

Put off, James crossed his arms and argued, "Come on, Professor Slughorn always picks favorites, and you can't say Evans didn't deserve it."

"Actually, I can," Remus muttered under his breath, and he pulled ahead of the others to walk on his own.

Looking at Sirius and Peter, James asked, "What's up with him?"

Sirius shrugged. "I don't know. He just gets really moody sometimes."

By the time they had caught up to Remus, he was already sitting at his desk in the drab little room used to teach History of Magic. Professor Binns, the ghost who taught the class, drifted out of the unused fireplace and began his usual monotone drone, but James noticed Lily had not arrived yet. Oblivious to anything outside of his dull lecture, Professor Binns did not notice anything strange about the lack of one of his most dedicated students, instead continuing to read through his notes and sending half of the Gryffindors into a light sleep. Listening distractedly, James twirled his pencil around his fingers and studied Lily's empty seat for the length of the period. As soon as the lesson ended, he gratefully left the room and headed towards Defense Against the Dark Arts with Sirius and Peter; however, upon entering, he noticed that Remus was missing as well as Lily.

"Hey, did you two see Remus?" James asked the others as they sat down.

"No," Sirius answered, looking around in surprise.

"I saw him before we left History of Magic, but I thought he would catch up with us," Peter replied helpfully.

As Professor Rainhill commenced his usual slow shuffle to his desk, James shook his head. "Well, there go Gryffindor's two most studious representatives."

He waited rather impatiently for the class session to end, and he grabbed the others immediately after they had turned in their essays about Defensive Spells to search the castle for their missing friend. Sirius suggested looking in the library first, in which Remus often spent hours, but after a cursory glance around the room (and a fiercely suspicious glance from Mr. Jaune) they decided he was nowhere near. At this failure, James led the way to their dormitory, jumping up Gryffindor Tower and through the Fat Lady's portrait before finally making it to their room. Panting from their run, James wrenched open the door and immediately stopped dead in his tracks, forcing the others to stand on their toes to see over his shoulders.

The room was in upheaval. Worn shirts and frayed jeans were strewn over the bedspreads, and several textbooks lay about at odd intervals, their covers yawning open. In the middle of the mess lay a beaten suitcase half full of belongings, placed precariously on one of the four-posters. Hunching over the suitcase, Remus allowed a final set of quills to fall from his grip before looking up in surprise.

"Blimey," James muttered in shock, letting go of the door frame to allow the others inside.

"What are you doing?" Sirius asked as the breath from Peter's open mouth ruffled the back of his hair.

"I . . . uh . . ." Hesitating, Remus glanced down at his suitcase before gulping and looking up again. "I got an owl from home. My mum's really sick. They think it might be spattergroit."

All confusion James felt immediately evaporated as he stared back in silence. After exchanging quick looks with Sirius and Peter, he glanced back at Remus, who was biting his lower lip. "I'm really sorry," James finally managed.

"Is she going to be okay?" Peter asked worriedly.

"I don't know," Remus replied with a heavy sigh, stuffing some more clothes into his suitcase and clicking it shut with a wave of his wand. Hoisting it off the four-poster, he started inching towards the door. "I'm going home to see her. I should be back in a few days, but could one of you do me a solid and hand in my essay in to Professor Rainhill?" Taking out a roll of parchment from the pocket of his robes, he explained sheepishly, "I didn't get a chance to turn it over since I missed class."

"No problem," James agreed, taking the paper. "I'll do it."

"Don't worry about the mess," Sirius told Remus, clapping him on his back as he slipped out. "We'll take care of it."

"I hope your mum gets better!" Peter piped up as Remus reached the door, smiling weakly and closing it behind him with a snap.

After listening to his receding footsteps, James turned to the others. "Blimey, spattergroit," he mused, shaking his head.

"That's pretty bad, isn't it?" Peter asked.

"Yeah," Sirius answered, "and really contagious."

"No wonder he looked so nervous. His mum could be bed-ridden for months," James added, looking down at the scroll in his hand. "Well, I might as well turn this in now. See you later," he announced, exiting through the door.

Running down the stairs and through the corridors at a lope, he managed to reach Professor Rainhill's office on the second floor in just a few minutes. Coming to a stop, he knocked on the closed door.

"Professor?" he asked hesitantly. When no one answered, he opened the door and stepped inside.

Met by the total absence of light, James paused for a few moments and waited for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. After several seconds, he spotted the faint outline of a covered window on the other side of the room, and the afternoon sun shone through the cracks just enough to reveal a desk in the center of the office. Hearing a faint noise coming from the table, James drew nearer and found Professor Rainhill laying on the desk with his head in his arms, gray hair falling loosely over his hidden face as he snored.

Suddenly self-conscious, James quickly placed Remus' essay on the desk and backpedaled out of the door, closing it quietly behind him. As soon as it shut, he leaned against it and deflated with a sigh of relief. Listening to the professor's heavy breathing through the barrier, he smiled weakly to himself. Awkward though the encounter had been, at least now he knew why the ancient and lethargic Professor Rainhill was never seen outside of class.

* * *

The rest of the school week passed without much action. Although Lily once again started attending classes the following morning, she kept to herself and avoided eye contact with James and his friends. Truthfully, James found this turn of events extremely agreeable, because she no longer even accidentally drew attention to herself during lessons. For the most part he left her alone, and Alice talked to him again after a few days in order to borrow a quill, her normal good humor returning.

To celebrate the weekend, James, Sirius, and Peter awoke early on Saturday morning and enjoyed three viciously competitive rounds of Exploding Snap. Sirius, the overall champion, ordered a celebratory march down to the Great Hall for breakfast, James and Peter toting the ends of his robes to keep them from dragging on the floor. Garnering many curious glances on their way to the ground floor, which was the point of the ordeal according to Sirius, the tiny parade took a short break to eat before continuing their formation out onto the school grounds and under the large oak tree by the lake. Unfortunately, the sunshine only held out for a few hours until the clouds began to thicken menacingly. Before the boys had time to respond to the ominous sky, the storm that had been threatening for weeks came down in torrents and soaked everything within reach.

While the other students unfortunate enough to have been caught outside struggled up the hill and back towards the castle, James noticed a small shelter only a short walk in the other direction. When he tried to shout to the others over the downpour, his words were pushed back into his throat; still, Sirius and Peter noticed his frantic waving and followed after him obediently. Trudging through the quickly-forming mud, the group reached the hut and pounded on the door, heeded shortly by the gigantic, bearded form of Hagrid the Gamekeeper.

"Whew!" Hagrid sighed through his tangled mane as he ushered them inside, closing the door with a bang. "What a storm! Are yeh all righ'?"

Nodding, James wrung out his sleeves one at a time and looked around. He had never given thought to where the Gamekeeper lived, but, then again, he had never wondered where any of the Hogwarts staff slept. Cozy and welcoming, the one-room hut smelled of clean earth and broiled meat, probably due to the large chicken turning over the roaring hearth. In the middle of the cabin stood a table and a few chairs, and a huge dog lying in the corner lifted its head to take in the newcomers.

"Tha's jus' Fang, don't mind 'im," Hagrid reassured Peter as the dog stood and pushed his gigantic muzzle into the boy's rotund belly to take a good sniff. "'E's my boarhound. I got 'im a few years ago, an' he don' do much 'cept scare small children. 'Ere Fang, 'ave this," he called, tossing a blackened biscuit at his dog to keep him from licking Peter's arm. Examining the treat after it hit his head and fell to the ground, Fang gave it an experimental nudge with his nose before turning away in disinterest and lumbering back to his bed.

"Ruddy dog," Hagrid muttered as he picked the biscuit back up and brushed it off with his sleeve. Taking out a plate from a cupboard, he placed the biscuit on it and added a few more of its kind before putting the tray on the table. "Want a biscuit?" he asked happily. "Made 'em meself."

Unable to form a response, James allowed Hagrid to push him down onto a nearby chair. "I'll get some tea goin'," Hagrid said, retrieving a kettle.

"Do you live here?" Sirius questioned incredulously, enthralled with the drying animal parts hanging from the ceiling.

"Yep," Hagrid answered, pouring some water into the kettle and setting it beside the chicken to boil. "It's been me 'ome since I was—well, a long time, anyways. Headmaster Dumbledore gave me a job and a place of me own righ' on the grounds. Always looked up to 'im, I did. E's a great man." Whistling some obscure tune as he waited for the tea to warm, Hagrid rubbed his hands together as James studied the rain-pelted window, drawing his wet clothes closer over his body.

"Oh, 'ere," Hagrid broke the silence, "let me take care of yer robes. Yeh must be freezing." Reaching for a horrid pink umbrella standing in a container near the door, he pointed the tip at James' chest; James briefly considered making a break for it, but he could not bring his frozen legs to move. " _Aqua Remotio_!" Hagrid commanded, and James felt with relief the water siphon off of his robes and fall onto the floor.

"There," Hagrid said, turning and doing the same to Sirius and Peter. After putting the parasol back in its container, he looked at the boys worriedly and whispered, "Yeh won't tell anyone I did tha', will yeh? Strictly speakin', I'm not supposed ter use magic, but I just wanted yer clothes to be dry for yeh."

"Of course we won't tell," James answered, and the others nodded in agreement.

Beaming, Hagrid took the whistling kettle out of the hearth and poured water into four earthenware cups, supplying tea leaves with strainers. Sipping their hot drinks, the trio accepted the rock-hard biscuits their host offered them, although they made sure to avoid the one that had fallen on the floor. After a hesitant nibble that nearly broke his teeth, James waited until Hagrid looked away before dropping the inedible parcel into a nearby wooden bucket. Sirius and Peter likewise disposed of their food, and when Hagrid tried to get James to take another, he claimed a full stomach.

"I'd be in a better state fer guests if it weren't fer my duties," Hagrid apologized, sweeping a pile of deadly-looking claws off of the table where they were sitting. "Sorry 'bout the mess."

"So what exactly do you do around here?" Sirius asked, seeming to have taken an interest in the gigantic man.

"Oh, yeh know, clean the grounds, grow food fer the castle, keep the sphinxes from attackin' the students. Yeh know, little stuff like tha'. I'm the one who planted the Whomping Willow this year. Let me tell yeh, tha' was a piece of work."

"Do you take care of the Herbology specimens?" James questioned.

"Nah, I leave tha' mostly to Professor Sprout, though I still do some heavy liftin' from time ter time. I'm more suited for 'ard labor, see," he answered, stretching his bulky arms. "I used ter haul around creatures fer Defense Against the Dark Arts, but not so much anymore. I don't really think Professor Rainhill can 'andle some of the bigger stuff, not with his failing health," Hagrid said, sighing disappointedly and itching a spot on the back of his neck. "No matter, I 'ave plenty of other things ter keep me busy."

Catching his despairing tone, James asked, "Do you not like your job?"

"Oh, no," Hagrid immediately defended, sitting up straighter. "Don't get me wrong: I love what I do, but it gets 'ard when Dumbledore isn't around keeping ship. I've 'ad four run-ins with unhappy centaurs jus' this month."

"Is Dumbledore gone somewhere?" Peter asked.

"Not righ' now," Hagrid answered, "but the Minister's been callin' him day and night ever since the Halloween feast."

"So that's where he was?" James asked. "He was with the Minister after the Muggle attack?"

"I see yeh read The Daily Prophet," Hagrid replied, nodding. "Tha' was the firs' major incident since the start of the school year, and it's jus' Professor Dumbledore's bad luck 'e's so renowned a wizard as 'e is. People look up ter 'im, yeh know. He didn't defeat Grindewald fer nothin', and now they expect him ter take care of every problem in the wizarding world."

"If the Ministry can't take care of a few Muggle attacks, the Minister must be pretty terrible," James commented.

"She's tryin' 'er best," Hagrid defended, "but there's only so much even the Minister can do against such things. No warnin', and the troublemakers disappear as soon as they come." Breaking off, he glanced outside the window and straightened in surprise. "Speakin' of disappearin', it looks like the clouds are gone. It's time I got out and checked the shallows of the lake—I think the giant squid sprained a tentacle."

Standing up, the boys thanked Hagrid and took their leave, exiting the hut after a farewell whine from Fang and trudging through the thick mud leading to the castle. When they entered through the double doors, they headed in the direction of Gryffindor Tower, planning to spend the rest of the day in warmth and comfort. As they topped their third set of stairs, however, a flash sounded around a distant corner, followed by a grunt and the sound of dropping books. Frowning, James led the others towards the ruckus as several people began to laugh.

"Whoops, it looks like he fell!" a voice mocked loudly.

"Is he wearing a sack or are those his robes?" someone else called out, causing more laughter.

"Better watch where you're going next time!"

"Did you hurt yourself, Lupin?"

Eyes widening in surprise, James broke into a run, Sirius and Peter at his heels. Rounding the corner, they stopped in front of the scene: in the middle of a circle of laughing students was Remus, kneeling on the ground next to his open suitcase, which had spilled several articles of clothing and a few worn books. Two older Slytherins and a Ravenclaw were chuckling in the front of the crowd, and one of the Slytherins had his wand out. As Remus reached for his books, the Slytherin flicked his wrist and blasted them out of reach with a yellow jet of light.

"Hey Lupin, did you find those robes in a junk shop?" the Ravenclaw asked loudly, drawing more laughter from the spectators.

Trembling with rage, James had his wand in his hand before he knew what he was doing. He was going to make them pay, he was going to hex them so badly they would spend a month in the hospital wing . . .

"Oi! Leave him alone!"

Caught off guard, James watched in shock as Lily Evans came charging through the students on the opposite side of the hall and stood over Remus. Piercing the bullies with her rabid gaze, she took out her wand and steeled for an attack.

"What's this, is a little girl defending the beggar?" the Slytherin with the wand joked, laughing.

"I said bugger off!" Lily shouted.

"So tough, eh?" he mocked. "What are you going to do about it, Mudblood?"

Hot fury at once reignited in James' chest, and he jumped in front of Lily and Remus with his wand leveled. "Call her that again!"

Taken aback, the bullies hesitated for a moment. "Okay, now we're really scared," the Ravenclaw finally spat. "Two little boys and a Mudblood—"

"That's four little boys," Sirius piped up as he leaped beside James, wand pointed threateningly. Unprepared for Sirius' sudden exclamation, Peter jumped before shuffling to James' other side and extending his wand with a shaky hand.

Apparently unwilling to start a fight with the odds leveled, the bullies took a few steps back. "All right," the Slytherin ring-leader sneered, backing away. "Have it your way."

Glaring the hecklers down until they had walked out of sight, James turned and stomped over to Remus' suitcase, now almost full again thanks to Sirius and Peter. Muttering angrily to himself while the spectators dissipated, he waited until the suitcase snapped shut before exploding.

"Those absolute gits!" he exclaimed. Remaining silent, Lily pulled Remus to his feet while Sirius levitated the luggage, and the group began to walk towards Gryffindor Tower. Still furious, James muttered, "When I get my hands on those prats, I'm going to make them wish they had never come to Hogwarts!" Glaring in Remus' direction, he spotted a long scratch snaking down his cheekbone and grew even angrier. "Did they do that to you, too?"

Remus hesitated for a moment and then nodded, staring at the ground. Growling in his throat, James kicked the floor. "Idiotic prats. Think attacking younger students is fun, eh? Mudblood, my foot. I'll muddy their blood, the gits . . ."

Lily threw James a deep look, but she did not say anything. The group continued up the Gryffindor Tower stairs, and for once the Fat Lady did not fuss over the proper enunciation of the password (now " _Wingardium Leviosa_ ") after one look at Remus, who looked embarrassingly close to tears. Due to some lucky stroke, the common room was empty, having been abandoned for the weekend, and Lily gave Remus one last consoling rub on the shoulders before turning for the girls' dormitories. As she left, Remus extended his arm and caught her sleeve.

"Thanks," he whispered hoarsely.

Turning back to acknowledge his gratitude, Lily forced a small smile and bobbed her head before disappearing up the stairs. Harrumphing moodily, James marched Remus up the neighboring flight of steps rather forcibly until they had reached their room. Shoving him down on his four-poster with unnecessary harshness, James watched Peter pull out a sack of Exploding Bonbons from a drawer.

"Here," he offered to Remus hesitantly, handing him the package.

Opening it without a word, Remus slowly chewed a piece while the others watched silently, standing awkwardly in front of him with their arms crossed. Tapping his foot subconsciously, James glared down at Remus until he gave them a darting upward glance.

"Horrible, idiotic prats," James spat angrily. "They deserve a bath in Snivy's hair gel."

Whether out of amusement, stress, or nervousness, Remus bent over and let out a snort, quickly overcome by coughing as he choked on the candy. Jumping to his side, Sirius patted his back a few times while the others sat down on the four-poster across from them.

"Snivy's . . . hair gel?" Remus managed finally between receding coughs, a grin spreading across his otherwise pained features.

"Yeah, Snivy's hair gel," James repeated, encouraged by his friend's improved mood as he let out another spurt of uncontrollable laughter.

"Or Fang's slobber," Peter offered seriously, causing James and Sirius to chuckle knowingly.

"What?" Remus asked, calming somewhat.

"We'll tell you later," James told him.

"So how's your mum?" Sirius questioned.

Still confused, Remus took a few moments to collect his thoughts and shook his head. "Oh, she's fine. It wasn't spattergroit after all."

"Oh, good," Peter said, letting out a breath of relief.

"What was it?" James inquired.

"Abunculosis," Remus supplied. At the perplexed looks on the others' faces, he explained, "It's a variety of forest flu. The spots resemble spattergroit in the early stages, but it's easily treated."

Throwing Sirius a baffled glance, James nevertheless decided not to question Remus' academic knowledge. "Okay, sure," he agreed placidly, making a mental note to pay better attention in Herbology. While he was at it, he made a promise to treat Lily better. She was all right.


	7. A Curious Christmas

**A Curious Christmas**

A few weeks later, the castle's walls were sporting garlands of holly to celebrate the coming holiday, and white sheets of snow fell from the sky and blanketed the school grounds. Everyone started talking about their Christmas plans in between classes, and the topic eventually swung around to James and his friends.

"So what are you doing for Christmas?" James asked the others one afternoon in the Great Hall during lunch.

"I'll be going home during break," Remus told him. "I'll be back as soon as classes start again."

"I'm going home, too," Peter replied.

"I figured you'd all be heading off," James said before turning to Sirius. "You, too?"

"I'm staying here," Sirius answered, and the others looked at him curiously as he shrugged. "I've got things to do. My parents won't mind, anyway."

As he continued to eat, Remus caught James' eye; James knew they both sensed something more behind Sirius' decision than what he let on. Thinking for a moment, he reached a decision. "I was going to write my parents to tell them I'm staying, too," he announced. Everyone looked at him disbelievingly, but he continued emphatically, "Just think, I'll have the whole castle practically to myself! It'll also give me time to catch up on some reading."

At this, Remus looked even more incredulous, and Sirius stared searchingly into James' eyes for a moment. However, he turned away without saying anything, and James thought he saw a shadow of a smile cross his face.

Only a few days later, James had fulfilled his promise and had obtained his parents' reluctant permission to stay over the holidays, and he and Sirius bid the others farewell on the steps to the castle. After Remus and Peter had climbed into one of the horseless carriages traveling back to the Hogwarts Express, James and Sirius walked back down the line of carts, passing Frederick as he climbed into another carriage behind Dill. As they made their way to the castle entrance, however, a sudden cry from behind made them turn around; waving in greeting, they waited as Andromeda ran up to stop them.

"You aren't going home?" she asked Sirius with a frown. He shook his head, and she made a sympathetic noise in her throat as her sister Narcissa stalked towards her from behind.

"We need to go, Andromeda," the haughty witch snapped impatiently, throwing a cursory glance at James and Sirius.

"All right, I'll be there," Andromeda replied sharply, throwing a glare at her sister. Turning back while Narcissa marched off, she told Sirius, "Don't mind Cissy; she's being a prat. She's just angry Lucius isn't visiting during the break, but frankly, I'm glad he's staying here; it means I don't have to deal with the two of them snogging around every corner. Anyway, you have fun, all right? I'll see you after break!" Turning around, she bounced off towards where Narcissa was tapping her foot in front of a nearby carriage.

"Malfoy's staying here?" James asked when she had left, surprised.

"Strange," Sirius added suspiciously, but he turned around after a few moments to enter the castle.

By the time all the departing students had left, Sirius fell into a pensive mood, which James resolved to break him out of indefinitely by the time classes started again. However, his friend required a constant stream of entertainment; one minute he was laughing over some caper he and James had planned, but the moment he was alone, he went back to brooding over the common room fire. Not entirely sure what caused these unpredictable spasms in his friend, James made his very best effort to fill in their time together with adventures of every kind. The two had already liquefied the floor outside of Filch's office, spread a nasty rumor among the portrait inhabitants about the cause of Professor Flitwick's stunted growth, and were busy placing Frost Spells on suits of armor to make them appear as if they had icicle beards when James finally brought up the question that had been bothering him for the entire break.

"Sirius," he asked casually, elongating an icy appendage from a mouth guard to the floor, "do you like people?"

Staring at him oddly from the corner of his eye, Sirius asked, "What do you mean?"

"Oh, I just noticed you seem kind of down with the castle so empty," James answered nonchalantly. Holding his breath, he waited patiently for a reply as Sirius looked at the ground.

"It just reminds me of home, that's all," he finally mumbled, giving a handlebar mustache to his suit of armor. "All dark and quiet."

"Don't tell me your house looks like this," James joked, gesturing at the tapestries and cathedral-like windows decorating the hall. When Sirius did not respond, he pursed his lips. "Well, maybe next Christmas you can come to my house. My parents will be happy to have you over! We have plenty of spare bedrooms, but you can stay with me if you'd like. Our house-elf makes the best lingonberry tarts, but Mum always cooks the turkey . . ."

As James dove into a monologue about his family's Christmas traditions, Sirius listened with interest as the two of them continued to work. He seemed to enjoy hearing James' reminisces, and he did not interrupt until he had finished.

"Sounds great, mate," he finally responded with a nod, glancing back at his suit of armor. "You really like your parents, don't you?"

"They're great as far as parents go, I suppose," James replied, nodding. "I'm sure they'd be happy to have you." For a moment, the only sound to break the hall's silence was the soft tinkling of ice against metal.

"Maybe I'll ask my parents if I can visit sometime," Sirius finally answered.

"Great!" James exclaimed, adding a goatee to a mouth guard with a flourish. "It's settled. Next year Christmas is on me, and don't forget to visit during the summer!"

Sirius gave him a lopsided smile and opened his mouth, but the soft padding of footsteps suddenly sounded from a few doorways down, making the two of them straighten in alarm. "Come on!" James hissed, pulling his friend away, but he stopped just long enough to lay a thin sheet of ice on the floor before escaping. Running down an adjacent hall, the duo disappeared just before Filch entered the chamber through an archway and slipped onto his back.

By and large, James believed he had never had a better Christmas Eve. Here at last in Hogwarts was a place he could pull off all the mischief he wanted to without being immediately faulted. Of course, the absence of most of the other students made his and Sirius' guilt more apparent since they had already made repeat offenses, but unlike in his own home, no one could prove anything for certain. Therefore, in accordance with their carefully orchestrated work, the castle's clocks burst into wild canons of "Deck the Halls" at the stroke of midnight, followed for several minutes by inept harmony by Peeves and the shouts of Professors McGonagall and Flitwick. After that brief episode, James remembered nothing else until six in the morning when he awoke with a start and found a pile of packages at the foot of his four-poster.

"Sirius!" he hissed at the lump on the adjacent mattress. "Wake up!" Mumbling incoherently, his friend rolled over. "Get up, I say! It's Christmas!" James commanded again.

"What?" Sirius finally muttered, getting onto his elbow and rubbing his eyes.

"Merry Christmas, mate!" James greeted, grinning.

"Oh," Sirius said, directing his attention to the boxes at his feet. "Merry Christmas, James," he finally answered, his eyes lighting up.

"To a happy New Year!" James announced, lifting a package ceremoniously before ripping it open. Quickly going through his pile, he opened a how-to book about Quidditch maneuvers from Remus, a bottle of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans from Peter, and a collection of clothes, Quidditch player figurines, and Chocolate Frogs from his parents and Winthrop. Turning slyly to Sirius after he had opened his gift, he said, "Thanks for the present. It could really come in handy."

"Sure," Sirius replied. "Thanks for yours." They both held up identical packages of Dungbombs and burst out laughing.

"More for the both of us, eh?" James joked, glancing out of the nearby window and into the dark blue sky. "Hey, do you think it's too early for breakfast? If you want to stay in bed, we can always play a few rounds of Exploding Snap."

"It's never too early for breakfast," Sirius told him, flying off of his mattress. "I'm starving."

Smiling, James quickly changed and joined his friend on the journey to the Great Hall. Expecting to find the area uninhabited, he was surprised to find Professor McGonagall, Flitwick, Slughorn, Sprout, and Hagrid all standing in a close huddle around the High Table. Nodding to the others, Professor McGonagall set off down the hall at a brisk pace and glanced briefly at James and Sirius before striding purposefully past. As the boys approached the group, Professor Sprout departed as well while Hagrid waved genially at the newcomers.

"'Ello, there," he greeted. "Wha' are yeh doin' up so early?"

"Couldn't sleep," James answered. "What's going on?"

"Oh, nothin', really," Hagrid replied nervously, glancing at the others as if he had not been given permission to speak.

"What happened?" Sirius asked stubbornly, looking around the room before he noticed a missing member from the circle of professors. "Where's Dumbledore?"

"Now, now," Professor Slughorn interjected condescendingly, ushering James and Sirius towards the Gryffindor table. "Why don't you sit down and have some breakfast? You can't start Christmas Day with empty stomachs."

Sitting down grudgingly, James and Sirius waited while Slughorn snapped his fingers, conjuring a few plates full of food. The boys pretended to be interested in their meal, but they kept a close eye on the adults as they filled their plates and sipped self-consciously from their goblets. Eventually Hagrid and Professor Slughorn left Flitwick standing alone in the Great Hall, and the tiny professor dutifully watched the boys while they ate.

Rushing unnecessarily, James jumped out of his seat a few minutes later with Sirius right behind him. "Done!" he proclaimed, and Professor Flitwick nodded before gesturing towards the double doors at the end of the hall. Walking briskly, James looked back to see Flitwick following them, and he said nothing until the professor turned around a separate corner and waddled away.

"Something's off," James announced. "What were they talking about before we got there, and why did they try to get rid of us?"

"I've got a mind to find out," Sirius replied, arms swinging as he marched purposefully onward. "We're going to go to the Headmaster's office and see if he's there."

"Do you know where it is?"

"No, but we're going to find out. Come on," he commanded, heading off through the castle. "We should try the top floors first—maybe in one of the towers."

"Let's try the big one by the bridge," James suggested, breaking into a run. Following Sirius, he rounded several corners and hopped down a flight of stairs before reaching their destination and trying the large door at the base of the tower. When they tried to jiggle the handle, the wooden door would not budge.

"Let me try," Sirius announced, and James stepped aside. Pulling out his wand, Sirius pointed it at the keyhole and said, "Alohomora!" A bright purple light issued from his wand and enveloped the doorknob, and Sirius tried the handle again.

"Bad luck; that usually works!" he complained when it did not turn, and he turned to shrug at James. "Better keep looking."

Disappointed, they doubled back to return to the place where they had started. Working from the center of the castle outwards, the two searched every likely place they could think of for the Headmaster's office, but the closest they came to a discovery was when they thought they saw an outline of a door on the seventh floor after passing by for the second time. Eventually they decided to retrace their steps on the lower levels, and they slowly made their way down until they landed back on the second floor and entered an unpleasantly familiar hallway filled with gargoyles. Immediately brought back to their run-in with Malfoy and Filch on Halloween night, James grimaced as they walked towards the potion storage room amid the apparently repaired statues, but he stopped only after a few more steps. For the second time since the beginning of the school year, he heard noises issuing from a crack in the door, but this time they belonged to voices.

". . . appreciate it. It helps more than you know." There was a sound of a hand patting hard flesh.

"Sure. This should be enough for a few weeks," said another voice, noticeably younger and higher.

"Hopefully I won't need any more after today, but it all depends if a certain amount of luck's on my side. You'll be able to make more?"

"Yes." There was a short pause, during which James could hear small shuffling noises. "So," the younger voice spoke up again, "what exactly do you need it for?"

"It's best you don't know, if you get my meaning."

"Okay," the other replied grudgingly before bouncing back to a more cheerful tone. "If you need more, just tell me."

Two pairs of feet began walking for the door, and James and Sirius barely had time to press their backs against the wall before the two speakers exited the room with a swish of their robes. Immediately wishing for his Invisibility Cloak, James squeezed against the stone and watched the opening door swing towards his face. Standing on his toes in an attempt to melt further into the wall, he watched as it came closer and closer; he felt the cold wood touch the tip of his nose as it came to a stop, and the momentum dislodged his glasses. Hardly daring to breath, he sensed his heart stop when a hand snaked its way around the door frame and pulled it shut. As it swung back into place, he watched the two companions walk out of view around a corner, but not before he had gotten a good look at them. One glance at the taller person's long, blonde hair and the shorter one's greasy head was all he needed.

When they could no longer hear footsteps, James and Sirius slid down to the floor and exhaled with relief. "What was that about?" James finally asked, gesturing in the direction where Malfoy and Snape had disappeared.

Still breathing heavily, Sirius answered, "The potion. I bet Snape made what Malfoy asked him about at the party. But what's it for?"

"We have to follow Malfoy," James interjected, jumping up. "He said he might not need any more after today—he's planning something."

Leaping after the Slytherins, James and Sirius hurried down the corridor in search of their quarry, but Malfoy and Snape had already disappeared. After a thorough search of all the surrounding passages, they still had not found any trace of them. Although they spent the rest of the day exploring the castle for the second time, James and Sirius only succeeded in finding Peeves, who was singing inappropriate parodies of Christmas carols in the Great Hall; Professor Rainhill, who was sleeping standing up near his office; and a few second-year girls, who were trading Chocolate Frog cards in front of the main staircase on the first floor. No longer pleased with having the whole castle practically to themselves when the second-years claimed they had not seen anyone all day, James finally trooped back to Gryffindor tower with Sirius in despair, hoping desperately Malfoy had not been able to accomplish his unknown plan.


	8. The Sword of Gryffindor

**The Sword of Gryffindor**

". . . and that's what happened." James looked expectantly at Remus and Peter.

"You don't think Malfoy would do anything illegal, do you?" Peter asked with a gasp, eyes wide.

"I wouldn't put it past him," James insisted. "You heard everything. He's evil."

Shaking his head, Remus lifted his hands in a conciliatory gesture. "Even if he is planning something, Snape wouldn't just agree to help him—"

"Yes, he would," Sirius interjected.

"He doesn't even know what Malfoy's doing," Remus argued. "If he's even doing anything," he added quickly, giving Sirius a sharp look. "Remember? You said he asked, but Malfoy didn't tell him what he was up to."

"Well, it gave all the pointers of being something sneaky," Sirius replied, looking put off.

"Yeah, you weren't there," James defended.

"Still, nothing happened," Remus pointed out patiently. "Nothing exploded, disappeared, or died during Christmas break—except perhaps any incriminating evidence against Malfoy."

"Hush up and read the book, Remus," James sulked, stabbing the point of his trowel into the soft wooden table moodily.

Shrugging, Remus turned back to the Herbology textbook and handed a small pot to Sirius. "Stuff the plant in there before it tears off my arms."

Grunting, Sirius dropped the Bavarian Dancing Cretch that Remus had been holding into the pot and packed dirt over its roots to keep it from escaping. Grabbing the plant's tentacles, which had wound their way up to Remus' elbows, James and Peter tugged desperately until it let go and attacked their grasping hands instead. After batting the plant's appendages back, James glanced around the rest of the greenhouse. Standing along the windows, the other Gryffindor and Hufflepuff students waged war against the half-grown Cretches in hopes of finishing their deceptively simple-seeming task before the Herbology lesson came to an end. Gazing around the room with her hands on her hips, Professor Sprout gave a sad shake of her head and called out to the class.

"Clean yourselves up as best as you can when you've finished. This is the five minute warning."

Snatching his supplies as Sirius gave the crazed plant a final whack, James shot a deadly glare over his shoulder at the Cretch before heading for the door. Christmas break had finally come to an unwelcome close, and with it James and Sirius had told their roommates all about the strange occurrences over the holidays, covering Dumbledore's disappearance and certainly including their encounter with Malfoy and Snape. Still, at least Remus was right: in all likelihood, Malfoy had not been able to carry out his plan, because whatever it was, James felt sure the whole castle would know if he had.

Even though James and Sirius had searched the school for days after their accidental run-in with the Slytherin prefect, they had not found any trace of his presence. Of course, Hogwarts was the place to go if somebody needed to disappear; nevertheless, James could not help but feel slightly apprehensive (albeit somehow relieved) that Malfoy had more or less vanished. No glimpse of his pointed face had met James' sight even after regular classes had resumed, and now the best chance James had of finding out about his plan was talking to Snape after Potions, but he had so far missed any opportunity to corner him and talk about his recent hiring.

"Hey, James!" Peter panted, catching up to him in the hall. "You did really well in Transfiguration this morning! Your thimble was really convincing."

"Mmm? Oh, thanks," James replied distractedly.

"You're really good; I couldn't even change the cork's color! How do you do it?"

"Natural skill, Peter," Sirius answered for James as he and Remus approached from behind. "That's the key."

"I wish I had natural skill," Peter frowned, shifting the weight of his book bag on his shoulder. "I practice a lot, but I never seem to get better."

"You do have natural skill," Remus told Peter. Choking suddenly on his own saliva, James began to cough violently as Remus continued. "Yours just takes more time to grow—that doesn't mean it's any less special or impressive."

Peter smiled shyly at Remus, and James pointed up the corridor to dispel the awkward silence quickly permeating the air. "Hey, look, it's Hagrid!"

There was no doubt the others had not already seen the Gamekeeper, for his tremendous bulk rose high above the surrounding students squeezing past his sides in a desperate attempt to make it to their classes on time. As James called out his name, Hagrid turned and beamed at the four boys.

"Well, if it isn't James an' Sirius an' Peter," he named one by one, waving at them in turn as they approached. "Nice ter see yeh. And who's this one?" he asked, turning to Remus and scratching his scruffy head in confusion.

"Remus," Remus answered, his eyes slowly moving from the bottom of Hagrid's large boots to the top of his hairy head.

"Yer friends dropped by me hut once ter visit when it was stormin' outside," Hagrid explained, taking Remus' hand and crushing it in a friendly handshake. "Made Fang happy, I think. We 'aven't 'ad company in a while. . . . Hey, 'ave any of yeh seen Professor Sprout?"

"Yeah, she was just in Herbology," Sirius replied. "She should still be in the greenhouses. Why?"

"Well," Hagrid began, hoisting his large belt buckle higher up his waist, "I wanted ter talk to her about some plants I've been growin' for some wild Juncklebirds out in the forest. Juncklebirds are kind of rare, yeh see, so I admit I don't know as much about them as I'd like. I know what they like ter eat, though, so I started growin' some herbage. But," he said, leaning down to look down at the boys from only a mere three feet above them, "do yeh know if asphodel occasionally likes ter disappear?"

"Uh, I don't know," James answered, glancing at his friends for any objection to the contrary. "That sounds pretty strange."

"That's wha' I thought," Hagrid continued, straightening back up, "but then I remembered 'ow a couple of dryin' dragon steaks vanished from me ceilin' a couple o' years back. Normally Fang would 'ave barked up a storm if there was an intruder, but 'e was sleepin' contentedly in 'is bed, snorin' away. It must 'ave been part of their magic. Anyways, thanks fer the heads up. I'd 'ave looked in the greenhouses anyways, but I was just talkin' to Dumbledore about his new password with the other professors and I didn't want ter go down ter the grounds if Pomona was in the castle. See yeh later."

As Hagrid lumbered off, the foursome took advantage of the temporarily empty hallway to hurry off to Charms. Climbing up his ever-handy stack of books to see over his desk, Professor Flitwick began the class with a ten-minute monologue on the details of the Levitation Charm. When the students started to practice on their own, James copied the wand movements and immediately caused the feather sitting on his desk to float upwards. After constant repetitions for over half an hour, he yawned loudly and let his attention wander back to the tiny professor in front of the classroom. However, as he stared at Flitwick's large, pointed hat, a sudden idea struck him and he raised his wand again.

Taking aim, he muttered, "Wingardium Leviosa;" delighted, he watched as the professor slowly started to rise into the air. When he realized his feet had left the stack of books, Professor Flitwick let out a startled squeak and flapped his arms frantically as he continued to ascend. Finally, after the other students had all let out cries of alarm, jumping up in bewilderment, James decided he had had enough fun and let the professor sink back down to his desk.

Regaining his footing, Professor Flitwick brushed himself off as a few students giggled shrilly. Turning around, he demanded, "Who did that?" The room immediately fell silent. After a few moments, Flitwick narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Anyone?" he inquired again.

Smirking, James raised his hand, and everyone turned to stare at him. "A question, sir," he piped up, and Flitwick regarded him sharply. "What will happen to the person who did do it?"

"Well," Professor Flitwick responded slowly, taking his time, "I would have to hold the person accountable for his actions." No one stirred in the short silence that followed. "His actions," Flitwick finally continued, a gleam sparking in his eyes, "most spectacular."

Immediately the tension dissipated, and everyone turned admiring faces towards James, who grinned and put his arms behind his head. "Ten points to Gryffindor, and I expect you all to practice the same during the week," Professor Flitwick told the rest of the students. "Now go out and get some real-world experience. But try to be a little less . . . surprising when you do," he added with a smile as the other Gryffindors laughed and clapped sporadically. "You are all excused early."

Grabbing his belongings, James grinned at the other students as they passed him and voiced their gratefulness for an early ending and congratulations on a spell well done. As he and his roommates exited the room, Peter turned to Remus.

"See, this is just what I was talking about!" Peter told him, looking admiringly at James. Nearby, Hillary giggled in a small cluster with the other first-year girls, and James twirled his wand rapidly around in his fingers.

"Eh, it wasn't anything special, Peter," James told him dismissively. "I could do it again anytime I wanted to."

"You could?" Peter asked, eyes wide.

"No problem," James answered, waving his hand. "People aren't that different than feathers—at least, Professor Flitwick isn't." Even Sirius laughed at this, and he continued, "If I tried it on Slughorn, on the other hand, I'm not sure I could get him more than a few inches off the ground."

"You didn't Levitate Professor Flitwick, Potter," Lily interrupted impatiently. "You Levitated his clothes. Humans can't be affected by the charm."

Throwing an annoyed look at her, James retorted, "It did the same thing, didn't it?"

"All I'm saying is there's a fine line between charming an object and charming a person," Lily explained.

"Some people need a little charming," Sirius spoke up, and the other girls stifled giggles as Lily glared at him.

"I could name a few myself," she snapped before turning around in a huff.

"See you around, Evans! If you ever need a spell for your temperament, you know where to find us!" James called after her as she and the other girls disappeared down the hall. Laughing, he turned back to address his friends just as a voice sounded from the right.

"You think you're really clever, don't you, Potter?"

Spinning around, James searched for the speaker until he spotted a dark silhouette leaning against a doorway, covered by shadows. As the figure shut the book he was holding and stepped out into the light, James came face to face with an all-too familiar hooked nose above a judgmental sneer.

"Hello, Snivellus. Lovely day," James greeted. Beside him, Sirius growled deeply and fingered his wand while Remus and Peter noticeably gulped, though with very different expressions on their faces.

"Have you nothing better to do than gather cronies?" Snape scoffed, scowling.

"Have you nothing better to do than hang around deserted corridors in hopes of catching someone to report to the professors?" James retorted, crossing his arms in an unfriendly gesture.

"It's a great disappointment most people don't think before they act, otherwise everyone would find someone more intelligent to follow," Snape insulted. "Eh, like leader, like followers, I suppose."

"At least I have friends," James shot back. "I guess your face just scares everyone away, doesn't it?" Suddenly remembering his conversation with his roommates from earlier that day, James added, "And while we're here, why don't you tell us what you're planning with Malfoy?" Narrowing his eyes, Snape only fingered his book guardedly and said nothing. "Malfoy, Snivellus, Lucius Malfoy," James clarified. "What are you making for him?"

"Well," Snape finally answered, "it looks like I'm not the only one hanging around deserted corridors to catch someone worth reporting to the professors, now am I?"

"Tell me," James insisted, baring his teeth.

"I don't think I will," Snape replied haughtily, beginning to walk off. "It might teach you some humility."

"Tell me now!" James demanded, raising his voice as he stepped after Snape.

"Get stuffed, Potter," he gave in answer, continuing his nonchalant pace. Snarling, James halted and clenched his fists in frustration.

"Wow." When James turned around, he spotted Remus shaking his head. "You're not very subtle, are you?" Irritated, James scowled. "No, I mean it. Why would he tell you anything if you asked him like that?"

"I didn't really ask," James defended, offended by the idea he would plead to Snape.

Sighing, Remus stared at the ceiling. "I rest my case."

"I'd like to see you do better," James snapped, joining the others as they set off down the hall. As they trudged along, Remus thought for a moment before speaking up again.

"Well," he offered slowly, "I could try to talk to him if you want."

Surprised, James looked at him. "Go ahead; I don't care who finds out as long as somebody does."

"He still probably won't tell, but I'll try," Remus agreed.

"That's it!" Sirius interjected encouragingly, slapping Remus on the back.

"That's what?" Remus questioned.

"You're starting to take after us," Sirius explained, nodding at James.

"I hardly think asking Snape politely about his involvement with Malfoy constitutes as taking after you two," Remus disagreed, shaking his head.

"Don't worry: the day you make mischief will be the day I keel over of a heart attack," Sirius consoled inexpertly.

"I guess I'll go hex a professor then," Remus commented with a slight raise of his eyebrow, making both James and Peter laugh as they continued down the hallway.

"Nice," Sirius acknowledged, grudgingly impressed.

A few weeks went by and January grew to a close, but still the wind whipped around the school grounds as cold as ever. Thankfully, the snow had at last retreated to the mountains surrounding the castle, but students still avoided stepping out into the chilly outdoors whenever possible. Strategically planning their inter-class period routes, James and his friends allowed more time in their schedules for walking the long way around to their classes inside of Hogwarts' warm interior.

It was for this reason that, as the four were already pressed for time on their way to History of Magic, Remus convinced the others to skip lunch in order to make it to class on time, much to their reluctance.

"I won't be able to learn anything on an empty stomach," Sirius complained, and James and Peter nodded fervently.

"If you eat, you'll have to go out in the cold," Remus pointed out. Glancing out of a nearby window, the others grimaced at the pounding rain and whipping wind; defeated, they agreed to go without lunch, and they all grudgingly followed Remus through the castle to the nearest staircase.

As they began to climb, however, James felt a gentle shaking beneath his feet; when he had nearly reached the halfway point, a dramatic rumbling started, and he grabbed the sides of the staircase in an effort to keep from falling as the steps slowly shifted to the right. Ahead of him, Remus quickly jumped to the safety of the first floor while the rest of the boys were carried away and set to rest in front of an unfamiliar doorway.

"Confound this bloody castle," Sirius muttered, brushing himself off as they came to a stop with another violent shiver. "No matter where you think you're going, it'll take you the other way."

Glancing up at Remus, who was now stuck at the top of a doorway leading to a sudden drop, James waved and called, "Go on ahead! We'll catch up to you!"

Not waiting to be told twice, Remus turned and disappeared through the archway, safely closing the door behind him so no unsuspecting student would open it on the other end and receive a nasty fright as they stepped into empty air. Turning to look at one another, James, Sirius, and Peter regarded each other hesitantly before James finally straightened up and cautiously pushed open the door in front of them. On the other side, a dark hallway wound back and forth through the castle as well as up and down, the carpeted floor scattered with small hills and indentations in an impossible feat of engineering. Stepping inside watchfully, James led the way and turned slowly to the left, gazing at the walls. Where normally there hung portraits, blankets of dark tapestries covered the gray stone in their stead.

"Lumos," James whispered, pulling out his wand, and a white light immediately ignited from its tip. Now illuminated by the flickering glow, the hallway seemed to warp disconcertedly around James as he stepped forward, Sirius and Peter following quickly behind.

As they walked through the hall and up the steadily rising floor, James felt a vague sense of unease as the gloom began to play games with his ears, making every slight scuffing of his shoes sound like an intruder following behind him. When the trio passed an ivory pedestal, they found upon closer investigation a large, stuffed bat perched on top of it, its unnatural amount of teeth glinting atop its jaw, still hanging open in fury or terror. Now walking in a close huddle, the group continued on while glancing nervously up at the tapestries, which all displayed ghastly-looking narratives involving warlocks casting gruesome spells on their enemies, trolls feasting on large slabs of some unknown meat, and people screaming in agony over experiments gone wrong. James thought he recognized a scene from Beedle the Bard's "The Warlock's Hairy Heart," and he shuddered as he looked away from the prostrate bodies. The hallway seemed to stretch on forever, and James started to wonder if they would indeed ever get out of it, ever escape from the dozens of watching eyes from the tapestries . . .

"BOO!"

Jumping back, James reacted violently, accidentally knocking against Sirius as Peter let out a sharp scream. Cackling, a stubby apparition materialized out of thin air and rocked back and forth as he hovered, clutching his bell-topped slippers gleefully.

"Poor boys, trapped up here all alone!" Peeves the Poltergeist crooned with mock sympathy before letting out another chortle and performing an airborne backflip. "What would the professors say if they knew they had found a forbidden hallway?"

"We didn't know it was forbidden," James snapped at him angrily, having somewhat recovered from his scare.

Placing his hand on his heart in an offended gesture, Peeves shook his head and made the bell on top of his hat jingle loudly. "Potty mustn't be so mean, so cruel about it. Peeves is only trying to help you find your way out." Turning around and cupping his hands over his mouth, he shouted, "STUDENTS IN A FORBIDDEN HALL! COME QUICKLY!"

"I'm going to get you, you little blighter!" Sirius growled, whipping his wand out of his pocket and pointing it at Peeves' back. Swooping in another backflip, Peeves easily avoided the jet of light, and it smashed against a tapestry on the far wall. Laughing joyfully, the poltergeist bobbed away down the hall as Sirius blasted a few more spells his way, barely missing each time as Peeves casually dodged the hexes. As he turned the corner, he blew a final kiss at his attacker before disappearing from view, leaving the smoking floor and shredded wall hangings behind.

Breathing heavily, Sirius turned back to face the others. "That little—"

Suddenly, a few muffled footsteps sounded from the direction opposite where Peeves had vanished. Immediately alert, the three boys listened apprehensively as the rapid pattering grew louder and louder. All three turned simultaneously when their imminent fate became clear, but no sooner had they started to run off than a voice called out from behind them.

"Stop it right there!" Spinning around grudgingly, James looked into the furious eyes of Professor McGonagall as she approached them. Stopping in front of them, she crossed her arms accusingly. "What, exactly," she said pointedly, "are you doing in here?"

"Being late for class," James answered. McGonagall glared at him and then took a look at the ripped tapestries before spying Sirius' wand still in his hand.

"Are you aware this is a forbidden hall?" she inquired with a dangerous press of her lips.

Gulping, Peter piped up, "We didn't know, but the stairs switched and we had to come up here, and then Peeves came and scared us, and he started calling for the professors, and Sirius started shooting spells at him, but he left before you got here."

At the end of his long-winded reply, Professor McGonagall stopped tapping her foot and pointed at Sirius' wand mercilessly. "And why did you find it necessary to damage school property?" When they remained silent, she snapped, "Follow me."

Turning around, she marched away purposefully, leaving James to grimace at Sirius before walking unhappily after her. The group filed in a straight line until they finally exited the forbidden hallway through a small door and entered a much more welcoming part of the castle, continuing onward without slowing their pace. Gradually James became more and more familiar with their surroundings, and eventually he recognized the long expanse of the Gargoyle Corridor where he and Sirius had twice spotted Malfoy in the potions supply room. Never relaxing her tread, Professor McGonagall swung her arms in a steady rhythm as they crossed the hall and reached its end.

Facing the biggest and most grotesque statue yet, she snapped, "Peppermint toad," and the figure leapt aside to reveal a winding staircase. By the time they had reached the top, James' legs had started to ache from keeping up with McGonagall's brisk pace, but his pain was soon replaced by a sudden wave of surprise and a fair amount of fear when she opened the door at the top of the stairs.

Albus Dumbledore was sitting behind a mahogany desk at the far end of the circular room, steadily scratching at a piece of parchment with a long, decorative quill. He looked up in surprise at the sound of the opening door, and James realized he had just entered the Headmaster's study. Although he had never so much as carried a conversation with Dumbledore, the room struck him as just his style; scarlet curtains hung from a tall window behind the desk, books and scrolls stuck out at odd angles from nearly a dozen bookshelves, and a myriad of intriguing instruments dripped and flapped around the study.

"What is it, Minerva?" Dumbledore asked inquiringly over his half-moon spectacles.

"Albus, these three just entered the forbidden hall on the second floor and wrecked the walls with destructive magic," Professor McGonagall informed him.

"I see," he commented, placing his quill into an ink pot to his left. "And were these three unaccompanied?"

"Not exactly, sir," James piped up before McGonagall could reply. "You see, we entered on accident on account of a moving staircase, and Peeves found us before we could get out."

"That doesn't change the fact you blasted off half the tapestries," McGonagall interjected sharply.

"Only to get that dirty poltergeist," Sirius muttered under his breath, and she glared at him angrily as he quieted. Having listened silently with his fingers laced together, Dumbledore raised his eyebrows in good humor, looking rather entertained.

"Thank you, Minerva," he finally said. "I'll make sure it doesn't happen again." Satisfied, Professor McGonagall turned and exited, shutting the boys in alone with the Headmaster.

Picking up his quill again, Dumbledore continued scratching on the parchment and left the boys standing in an awkward silence. Not sure if he should stay where he was or if he could move around, James rocked on his heels quietly and glanced around the room. Looking outside the window behind the Headmaster, he admired the wide view of the Forbidden Forest and noted with appreciation how spectacular it must look during the springtime. Covering the walls of the office hung dozens of painting, and James peered at their occupants with curiosity, recognizing a few of the portraits as previous Headmasters and Headmistresses of Hogwarts. When he looked their way, the wrinkled wizards and witches quickly pretended to be asleep, but he spotted a dark-haired man with a rather sallow face taking several quick peeks at him and his friends.

Suddenly, something moved in the corner of his eye, and James looked over and saw to his surprise a colorful tower of feathers perched elegantly on a stand. Orange and red plumage ruffling, the phoenix lifted its previously concealed head from under its wing and stared at the newcomers with onyx-black eyes. Seeming to disregard the visitors, the bird adjusted its position, a brief spurt of fire flaring up from its feet and causing a dozen or so hot ashes to drop onto the platter just beneath it on the stand. About to lean over and study the pile of coals, James stopped when a yawn from in front of him signaled the end of Dumbledore's writing; standing, the bearded man pressed a signet ring into a drop of hot wax on the parchment and set the letter aside.

"Well, I see you have managed to get on Minerva's bad side," Dumbledore told the boys coolly. "It's a shame, really—she's a downright pleasant woman if you get to know her. She has her reasons, though: what you did was rather rash." He held up his hand to stop them as they opened their mouths to argue. "I know you three weren't entirely in charge of the situation, but once again, I hear your record isn't exactly spotless. Your escapade in the library took a certain amount of personal daring." Although Dumbledore spoke chastising words, the sparkle in his eyes betrayed a hint of amusement. "However, I must ask you to be a little more cautious in the future. This castle holds many secrets, and I would rather they not become known through the inexperienced actions of yourselves or anyone else. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," James, Sirius, and Peter muttered in unison.

"Thank you. I will hold you to your words." Turning around, he picked up an unopened letter from his desk and waved his hand. "You may go."

None of the boys moved. Throwing a glance at Sirius and Peter, James found the same look of surprise on their faces that he felt. "Sir?" he asked Dumbledore. "Aren't you going to . . . well . . . aren't you going to punish us or something?"

Eyebrows raised, Dumbledore turned and peered down his long nose at him. "Are you telling me how to do my job?"

"No, sir," James replied quickly.

Frowning contemplatively, Dumbledore muttered to himself, "Or perhaps . . . I shouldn't be so arrogant as to assume . . ." Trailing off, he gave the boys a piercing gaze and folded his hands seriously in front of him. "Do you want to be punished?"

"No!" all three boys exclaimed at once. Dumbledore blinked placidly.

"It's just—" James hesitated. "I thought—"

"You thought I wouldn't give you another chance? No, my dear boy. Your crime is not great enough to require more than a few Repairing Charms, and I believe you are repentant. Besides, I sympathize with your plight; I know just how aggravating our castle's resident poltergeist can be," Dumbledore added with another sparkle in his eye. "I simply ask you stay away from unknown corridors in the future."

Nodding succinctly as though finished with his explanation, he moved to the side and pulled out an object from behind his desk that James had not been able to see before. As he brought the ruby-encrusted handle of the sword into the sunlight streaming through the window, the long blade glinted and betrayed the frightening sharpness of its edges as Dumbledore lifted a letter on his desk with his other hand. In one swift motion, he sliced open the envelope and laid the sword down again.

"Sir," Sirius suddenly spoke, his voice barely restrained from excitement, "is that the sword of Gryffindor?"

Surprised, James looked at Sirius and back to the sword. Now that he took a better look at it, his mind clicked in recognition. So many stories circulated about the four founders of Hogwarts and their trademark talismans, but James had no idea they still existed.

"Yes, it is," Dumbledore stated matter-of-factly.

"The original?" Peter asked, astounded.

"The original," Dumbledore affirmed. "Owned by Godric Gryffindor himself." Rubbing the end of his beard, he admired the ruby handle thoughtfully. "I'm grateful for its constant company. It makes a lovely letter-opener."

"Don't you think it should be kept somewhere safer?" Peter prodded.

"Can you think of a safer place than Hogwarts?" Dumbledore asked, placing the sword back behind his desk and patting it. "No, it's quite secure here. I don't expect it will move for quite some time. Now, Fawkes, if you would be so kind," he suddenly addressed the phoenix on the stand, and it obediently unfurled its wings and gave its wings a powerful flap. Landing on the desk, it accepted the letter Dumbledore had written and now handed to it, clutching the sealed envelope in its beak.

"I hate to use Fawkes as a simple post-bird, but alas, I don't have time to make it down to the Owlery at the moment," Dumbledore told the boys, opening the window behind his desk so Fawkes could escape. "The Wizengamot gets terribly busy this time of year," he added thoughtfully as they all watched the colorful bird expand its wingspan and fly off towards the mountains in the distance. After gazing reverently for a moment, the boys sensed their dismissal and backed towards the door, but James paused just before leaving the room and turned around once more.

"Thank you, sir."

Smiling, Dumbledore replied, "Don't think anything of it. Now take care, and don't let me be seeing you in here again."

"No, sir," James agreed as Peter shut the door. As the boys headed down the stairs, he turned to Sirius. "The sword of Gryffindor, right in Dumbledore's very office!"

"I can't believe he's keeping it there!" Peter exclaimed. "Shouldn't something that important be kept somewhere safer?"

"You heard him: there's nowhere safer than Hogwarts," Sirius repeated.

"Except maybe Gringotts," James allowed.

"But does Dumbledore have the right to keep it to himself?" Peter questioned. "After all, there's only one person living in his office, and I don't think he's even related to Godric Gryffindor. I bet the Ministry would want to have the sword for themselves."

"Well, he's Dumbledore, don't forget," James pointed out. "He defeated Grindewald and all that. I expect the Ministry knows about the sword and just lets him have it."

"I suppose," Peter agreed hesitantly. "It just seems unfair."

"Why, do you have something in mind to use it for?" James questioned jokingly.

"I'd just probably give it to the Ministry," Peter answered simply.

"You should become a Ministry official for the handling of magical objects or something dull like that," Sirius scoffed, but Peter shook his head.

"I want to become a Quidditch player," he responded, and James and Sirius shared a glance.

"Sure," James finally replied.


	9. A Birthday Gone Wrong

**A Birthday Gone Wrong**

Waking up one Saturday in early March, James stretched and gazed out at the still-dark sky beyond his bedside window. Watching the sun slowly rise over the horizon from the comfort of his four-poster, he lazily glanced at the sleeping forms of his roommates before looking back out at the fog outside. A few owls emerged from the Forbidden Forest and swiftly swooped to a lower window of the castle that led to the inside of the Owlery, apparently having finished their nightly hunt. Vaguely wondering if Hardwin would return soon, James reached over to his bedside table and grabbed _101 Quidditch Tricks Everyone Should Know_ , Remus' Christmas gift, and started to re-read the first few pages while he waited for the others to awake.

However, after a few minutes, James began to grow bored, and he shut his book with an impatient glance at Sirius, just an undistinguishable lump in the four-poster next to his. Placing his book back on the table, James got onto his knees and wobbled unsteadily on his mattress as he peered into his friend's face and waved his hand in front of it.

"Hey, are you awake?" he whispered. Sirius did not stir. Grimacing in frustration, James jumped up, placing his bare feet on the cold, wooden floor, and pulled out his wand.

" _Inflo Vacuum_!" he commanded, and a rubber balloon began to expand from his wand-tip. He waited until the projectile had reached an impressive size before removing it and dropping it onto Sirius' face, where it promptly burst with a splash of water.

Reacting with surprising speed for so early in the morning, Sirius jerked back and spluttered angrily. After wiping his face with his hand, he barked in a raspy voice, "Are you mental?"

Unconcerned, James simply repeated the incantation and waited as another balloon inflated in his palm while he walked along the row of four-posters. Removing the balloon, he gave his wand a final flick to send the last drop of water flying off its tip; satisfied, he threw his new weapon onto the back of Remus' neck, the only exposed flesh he could find amid the four-poster's sheets and pillows. Leaving Remus to press his face into his pillow in a sudden jerk, James repeated the Filling Charm and threw the last bit of arsenal at Peter's open mouth. As he turned around to walk back to his four-poster, he heard a loud thump behind him indicative of Peter's body leaving the mattress in surprise.

"Whatever was that for?" Sirius demanded again, giving James his best glare despite having huffed appreciatively at the loud noise.

"It's Saturday," James answered, plopping back down on his mattress.

"Exactly, mate, what's your problem?" Sirius asked again.

"Get your lazy backside off the bed," James retorted. "I've been waiting for you to get up all morning."

Blinking slowly, Sirius glared up at James with dilated eyes. "I'm going back to sleep," he announced, pulling his covers over his head in defiance. Sighing, James lifted his wand again.

" _Inflo Va_ —"

"All right, all right!" Sirius yelled, throwing his covers off of his shoulders and hurriedly sliding to his feet. Grinning, James turned around to look at Remus and Peter, the latter of whom was peeking over Remus' four-poster in curiosity. As soon as he spun around, the two flew into action and began rifling through their drawers, more out of a need to appear busy than anything else.

In a little over half an hour, the four headed down to the Great Hall in full dress, a little ruffled from the morning's episode but none the worse for the wear. When they arrived, they took their seats near the end of the Gryffindor table and watched several other students gradually file in as they enjoyed their breakfast. Mentioning the latest match of the International Quidditch Tournament, Sirius conversed happily with James and Peter about their favorite teams for the majority of the meal. Remus listened politely until a Ministry owl dropped a copy of _The Daily Prophet_ in front of him, and he instead began to read the inside of the front cover.

"No, Ellyn Tracker won't leave the team for another few years at least," James argued. "She knows she's too indispensable."

"But she's nearing retirement age," Sirius pointed out. "I'd be surprised if she could stay on her broom after this season."

"She'll stay unless a talented rookie pops out of nowhere or they make the trade for Young," James answered. "The team comes first, you know?"

Sirius shrugged, but Peter argued, "What if she has another accident? Her last crash kept her from playing for a week."

"That's what I'm saying," James explained. "For her age, it should have taken her longer to recover, what with the tampered Bludger and all, but she shouldered through it and got right back onto the pitch."

"My mum said she shouldn't have done that—" Peter started, but James cut him off.

"But just look at how badly Tracker wanted to get back!" James exclaimed with an air of finality. "It only took her a few days to recover. She'll keep playing even if it kills her."

"Not if something else kills her first."

Stopping abruptly, James, Sirius, and Peter stared at where Remus' face was hidden behind _The Dailly Prophet_. Bringing the newspaper down to rest on the table, Remus pointed at a section on the far right that showed a picture of a woman in a hospital bed. She stirred feebly as the four watched her, and James read the caption just beneath the photograph: "Ellyn Tracker in St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries for the second time this month." Grabbing the paper, James held it upright so the others could read the excerpt.

 **Ellyn Tracker – Out of the Game for Good?**

Following the scandal of the Wimbourne Wasps and the hexed Bludger, no loyal fan of the Lucky Leprechauns would have believed it possible for any more misfortune to befall their beloved Keeper. However, against all odds, Ellyn Tracker has been hit once again with catastrophe.

"It was completely unexpected," Lucky Leprechaun Chaser Bill Stewart commented. "A really unlucky turn both for us and for her." Unlucky indeed it was, but what made Stewart especially astonished? "I can't believe anyone would wish to harm sweet Ellyn personally," he told one reporter.

Indeed, Tracker's new injury did not involve Quidditch at all. The Keeper was found in a patch of bushes just outside of her home in Somerset, England, following a search for the wounded after a Muggle attack in the same town early December 25th. Tracker had evidence of multiple hexes around her face and upper body, according to an unnamed Healer in St. Mungo's. Whether she was intentionally hurt or merely caught in the chaos remains up to question. When asked about Tracker's stance on non-magical folk, Stewarts appeared confused. "She's not against them, to be sure. I mean, I've never heard her talk about them much."

Whatever the case, the Lucky Leprechauns seem to be losing their charm. Thankfully, the Healers at St. Mungo's say Tracker will recover, though whether she will return to the Quidditch field is uncertain. For more information on the Somerset attack, see page 7.

"Well, what do you know," Sirius huffed when they had finished reading, and he turned to the others. "Wish to change your opinion, James?"

"Blimey," James said, scratching his head sheepishly. "What a coincidence."

Frowning, Remus snatched the paper back up and flipped through the pages. Pausing to scan a few paragraphs, he shoved _The Daily Prophet_ back down and indicated another passage.

"But it's not a coincidence," he told the others, pointing. "Look."

Obeying him, James looked at the title of the indicated excerpt and read silently: "New Information on Muggle Attack in Somerset." Drawing his eyes down to where Remus' finger lay, he found the word "Dumbledore."

"Albus Dumbledore, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot and current Headmaster of Hogwarts, was called to examine the evidence," James read aloud. "After confiding with the Minister of Magic, he revealed his take on the matter. 'It was definitely of deliberate intent,' he commented, 'and a malicious one at that. It is most unfortunate the rioters responsible were not caught.'" Shrugging, James looked up. "He went to help out. So?"

"That's where he was on Christmas morning," Remus answered. For a moment, James stared uncomprehendingly into Remus' eyes until he remembered the Headmaster's strange absence.

"Merlin's beard, you're right!" he agreed, picking up the newspaper to look at it in more detail.

"What are you talking about?" Peter asked, still lost.

"Remember how we told you how strange the professors were acting on Christmas?" James told Peter, still engrossed in _The Daily Prophet_. "So Dumbledore actually was gone," he added to himself, and he put the paper down with surety. "There's nothing else in there. It just mentions his name a few more times."

"What do you think—" Peter began.

"Shhh!" Sirius demanded suddenly, forcefully closing the open newspaper and crumpling it as he shoved it to the side.

"Wha—" Peter tried again, but Sirius elbowed him in the stomach to silence him. Leaning casually back on the table, he glared icily at a passing student; turning around, James recognized the bony form of Snape and stared at him uninvitingly as he walked past. Following Snape's progress with his eyes, he ignored Remus as he sat up next to him.

"Good morning," Remus said politely, and James had to turn and face him before finally realizing that he was talking to Snape.

Stopping suddenly to stare at Remus, Snape glowered at him suspiciously. "Morning," he finally replied with an edge to his voice.

"How are you doing?" Remus asked.

"What do you want?" Snape snapped after another awkward pause.

"Nothing," Remus answered, flushing slightly as he shrugged and turned back to face the table. "I just thought I'd ask."

Disgruntled, Snape curled his lip and stalked off. Raising an eyebrow, James sneaked a glance at Sirius and Peter, who looked just as confused as Snape had been.

"Hello?" Sirius asked Remus, waving his hand in front of his face. "Is Remus in there?"

"I said I'd try to help, didn't I?" Remus replied, annoyed. "Didn't you want to figure out what he was doing?"

Huffing, James shook his head. "And you're complaining about _me_ being too forward? That was about as subtle as a Bavarian Cretch."

"How are you supposed to find out what he's doing if you don't ask?" Sirius demanded.

"Well, I can't just ask up front, can I? You saw how suspicious he was, no thanks to you two," Remus retorted, pointing to James and Sirius with his fork. "If I did, he would just shut me out. If you want to know what he's doing, we have to take it slowly. Do me a favor and don't blow it with any unnecessary hostility, okay?"

Scowling, James wrinkled his nose over at where Snape was sitting at the Slytherin table. "You're asking us to be friends with him?"

"No, I'm asking you to be _friendly_ with him. There's a difference. If you can't say anything nice to him, just don't talk at all, okay?"

Rolling his eyes, James tried to think of a way to work around Remus' logic. "Fine," he finally grunted, giving up, "but you're on your own, okay? I'm not talking to him."

"Excellent." Remus smiled. "Peter? Sirius?"

"Okay," Peter agreed hesitantly, throwing a quick look at James. Sirius merely huffed.

"That's that, then. I have your words." Standing up, Remus stretched and cracked a stiff spot in his back. "See you upstairs. I've got to study."

As he left, James gave Sirius an unhappy look, and he only rolled his eyes. Sighing, James held his head with his hand and stared down at his food. Several unpleasant memories flew back at him, all boasting the hooked nose and the snide arrogance of a certain Slytherin. By the looks of things, he had just promised to do the impossible.

* * *

Despite his heated resentment, James soon forgot all about their promise as March drew on. Every one of his professors had begun to pile extra assignments on him and the other students in preparation for the end-of-year exams, much to his and everyone else's chagrin. ("But they're not for months!" Sirius once complained. "Trust me," Professor McGonagall had answered, laying a thick pile of paper on his desk, "you'll be grateful you studied.")

At first James had started studying with good intentions, but after skimming over a few History of Magic textbooks only to receive more work the following class, he gave up entirely. All throughout the castle, students were complaining about the excessive amounts of homework—everyone, that is, except for Remus. Wherever he went, he walked with his eyes on a book in front of him, scribbling notes down on a piece of parchment he kept with him at all times.

When Andromeda heard Sirius making fun of this habit in front of Dill, she interjected, "You're laughing now, but he'll make a good student when it comes time for O.W.L.s."

"You mean Ordinary Wizarding Levels?" Sirius scoffed. "Those aren't until our fifth year!"

"And they come out of nowhere, trust me," Andromeda retorted. "I'm taking the Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests now, and I'm drowning in homework. You've been studying for two weeks—I've been studying for the N.E.W.T.s. for two years."

Although usually not one to get ahead in homework, James made an extra push to finish all due assignments before his birthday, which was sadly in the middle of the week. He expected to receive yet another bundle of work before night fell, but he decided to at least start the day right, practicing the Full-Body Bind Curse and the Unlocking Charm over and over again until he mastered them.

On the morning of his birthday, he woke up just a few minutes before dawn to find Remus already awake, eyes glued to his Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook. Looking up at the sound of rustling bed sheets, he smiled at James. "Up already?"

"What do you mean already?" James responded, leaping out of bed and putting on his glasses to look at the orange-tinted sky. "I overslept."

Glancing back down at his book, Remus advised, "Don't wake up Sirius if you want to turn twelve today."

Grinning, James grasped the corner of his pillow and aimed it at the lump in the neighboring four-poster. "I was born just after midnight. I'm already twelve."

Fortunately, Sirius turned out to be in a forgiving mood when he remembered the day's occasion. After throwing his own pillow at James' head and missing it by inches, he smiled sleepily as it sailed over Remus and hit Peter on his four-poster. "Happy birthday, mate. If you want your present, leave me alone for five more minutes." Gesturing toward the whopping pile of gifts at the foot of James' four-poster, he turned over and buried his head in his mattress.

Delighted, James ripped open the packages from his parents and roommates, littering the floor with wrapping paper. When Sirius and Peter finally climbed out of their four-posters, he passed around his new collection of pumpkin pasties and Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans before they got ready for the day. They were still enjoying their candy when they headed down to the Great Hall amid a crowd of tired students significantly less cheerful than they. Sitting down at their usual place at the Gryffindor table under the breathtaking dawn of the enchanted ceiling, they chatted amiably until a cluster of Slytherins passed close by, headed by the sneering Lucius Malfoy. As he walked by, Malfoy glanced coldly down at their group.

"Playing around with sweets, I see?" he commented as he slid past. "Not ones for studying, are you? Good luck on the exams."

Scowling at the backs of the laughing Slytherins, James felt a minor cloud of frustration wash over his otherwise pleasant mood. Blushing, Remus pulled out his book and began reading again.

"Hey, could you not do that?" Sirius asked suddenly, jerking James out of his thoughts as he addressed Remus. "You don't have to give in to them."

"I'm not giving in to anyone," Remus answered, slightly offended. "I'm just reading. I think it's a good idea to study, anyway."

"But you always read," Sirius complained. "It's James' birthday. Could you at least spend five minutes with him without burying your head in a book?"

Now defensive, Remus lowered his book. "I spend plenty of time with you guys. Maybe it's time you three learned to take your homework seriously. Exams are coming up, you know—maybe you've heard of them?"

Alarmed, James exchanged a quick glance with Peter, who shrugged helplessly. "Hey guys," James interjected, "maybe we should talk about something el—"

"They're not for months!" Sirius exploded. "Can you calm down and live a little? Life isn't just about grades!"

"What world do you live in?" Remus retorted, huffing a little.

"The real one! Not some blocked-off fantasy about scores and tests! The one with friends who need you!"

Stung, Remus looked about to say something, but he suddenly glanced over Sirius' shoulder and flashed a quick, pained smile. Attention diverted, James turned to see Snape walking right behind them.

"Hello," Remus called out to him, giving a short wave. Suddenly aware of who Remus was addressing, Sirius clenched his jaws and hunched his shoulders, blocking out Snape as he looked over warily. When he spotted Sirius' defensive posture, a light in his eyes seemed to spark, and his lips curled into a smile.

"What's with the bad mood?" he questioned, gesturing at Sirius.

"Bugger off, Snivellus," Sirius growled, not looking at him. Turning up his nose, Snape sneered.

"What a welcome," he responded. "Somebody's having a bad day."

"I said bugger off!" Sirius repeated, louder this time, and he turned around with his hand in his pocket. Horrified, Remus opened his mouth, but Snape beat him to it.

"What are you going to do if I don't?" he asked mockingly. "I'm not a pup to be ordered around by some blood traitor."

Snarling, Sirius whipped out his wand as Snape did the same, and James pulled out his own to defend his friend.

" _Rursus Faciem!_ " Sirius yelled.

" _Petrificus Totalus!_ " James cried at the same time.

" _Tumescente!_ " Snape shouted back.

James' hex missed Snape by inches as he leapt aside, instead combining with Sirius' and expanding tenfold. Rippling down the Great Hall, the combined hex smacked into the opposite wall with a shudder and caused half of the Hufflepuff table to jump in fright. Unfortunately, Snape had more luck with his spell, and it hit Peter square in the chest. Falling off the bench, Peter let out a shriek quickly muffled by sounds resembling the Filling Charm; in seconds, a button had flown off of his shirt as his clothes struggled to contain his expanding torso, which bubbled over with large boils. As Snape whipped around and scurried off, Remus flew off the bench and pulled Peter up, but he kept expanding painfully.

"Professor!" Remus yelled towards the High Table, and Professor McGonagall slowly rose in shock as the other professors gaped unbelievingly. The entire Great Hall was now buzzing with shouted exclamations as McGonagall hurried to the scene, followed quickly by Professors Sprout and Flitwick.

"Get Poppy!" McGonagall told Professor Sprout as she reached Peter and took ahold of his arm, and Sprout rushed towards the double doors as Flitwick struggled to help McGonagall support Peter out of the Great Hall. Furious, James glared over his shoulder at the Slytherin table, where Snape had seated himself in the center of a crowd of admiring Housemates. Looking particularly pleased, Malfoy patted Snape appreciatively on the shoulder next to Narcissa, who smiled approvingly out of sight of the High Table.

"I'll kill him," Sirius glowered, scowling at the back of Snape's greasy head. Giving Sirius a sharp glare, Remus picked up his books and marched out of the Great Hall behind McGonagall and Flitwick. Sighing, James buried his head in his arms. He had just lost two roommates in five minutes: one to Snape, and one to Sirius.

"Not if I kill him first," he muttered darkly.


	10. The Quidditch Chase

**The Quidditch Chase**

"So what do you think of this one?" Sirius whispered over the table. Sticking his wand out, he sent the papers on his desk flying in fifteen different directions while the other Gryffindors in the Charms classroom attempted the Disarray Spell with various levels of success.

"I'm not sure what it would do other than mess up Snape's hair," James replied, pointing his wand at the already disorganized mess of paper on the floor and scattering the stray sheets still further.

"He's bery orgadized," Peter piped up from beside them. "He wouldn't like gedding his stuff mezzed up."

Unconvinced, James only shook his head at Peter, whose face was still swollen even though Madame Pomfrey had worked on his condition for nearly a week. James was sure there had been something Dark about Snape's hex, which was precisely why he, Sirius, and Peter had been searching for an opportunity for revenge ever since the episode in the Great Hall.

"It's not big enough," Sirius complained, prodding a quill with his wand impatiently as Peter bent to pick up the spilled paper. "If he would just show his cowardly face . . ." Scowling, he hit the quill with a Disarray Spell and shot it towards the front of the room, where it hit Remus in the back of the head. Remus did not turn around; he had been avoiding Sirius for weeks, and he hardly looked at James anymore, much less talked to him. There were periods when the others did not see him for days at a time, even in their dormitory.

Narrowing his eyes at Remus, Sirius shoved his wand into his pocket and grabbed his Charms textbook. "That's it; I'm skipping class. I'll go see if Snape is hanging around the Potions classroom. I'll catch up with you later," he huffed, whisking out of the room in a flurry and knocking aside another student in his wake. In the front of the classroom, Professor Flitwick was aiding a struggling Hillary Vance and did not witness his disappearance. Shrugging, Peter turned to James with a blush.

"He's right, though," James sighed, nodding at the door. "Snape's scared of us."

"He should be," Peter said emphatically. "You guys'll ged him."

"Yeah," James agreed mellowly.

But how? They had doubled their efforts in Charms and Defense Against the Dark Arts to learn whatever spells they could, but Snape had hardly made an appearance since hexing Peter. With the aid of his father's Invisibility Cloak, James had overheard Wilkes and Mulciber casually mention Snape's continual seclusion. "The project," Wilkes had said, but both Slytherins had seemed to understand its implications without saying anything more. If they were not addressing Malfoy's potion, Snape was probably preparing some useless gold star assignment for Professor Slughorn, who had shown no sign of losing his favoritism. If anything, his bias had grown, as he now regularly kept Snape's potions as prototypes for the rest of the class to follow when it was a review day.

"Good work everyone! That's all the time we have for today!" Flitwick squeaked, snapping James out of his thoughts. "Practice pages 109-123, and study the models for help! And remember," he added, raising his voice over the din of the students' chatter, "read ahead! There are only seven more weeks until exams start!"

No one paid Flitwick any attention but rushed to remove themselves from the classroom. As they exited, James pulled Peter to the side and pressed him against the wall, putting a finger to his lips as an idea struck him. Watching the door, he waited waited until a flash of red hair bounced out of the classroom, and he jumped forward to put himself between Lily and her roommates.

"Hey, where's Snivellus been, Evans?" James asked before Lily could elbow him away in disgust.

"If I knew, I wouldn't tell you," she answered coldly, walking faster.

"Come on, Evans, I promise I won't hurt him," James insisted, running after her.

"Don't think I believe you for a second. If you didn't hurt him, Black would, and I'm not sure which would be worse." Behind Lily, Hillary gave James a smirk. "Now please move," Lily continued. "I want to get to the match on time."

Confused, James allowed the girls to push ahead, but he soon snapped his fingers and whipped around to face Peter. "The Quidditch match!"

Nodding as if James had forgotten the date of Christmas, Peter motioned behind him and asked, "Should we ged ready?"

"I almost forgot!" James cried, vaulting past Peter and towards the dungeons. "I need to find Sirius!"

"Whad are you doing?" Peter called, trotting loyally after him but quickly falling behind.

"Go on ahead and save us some seats!" James yelled over his shoulder, reaching a nearby staircase and bounding down the steps. "We'll be right there!"

As he ran, he mentally berated himself for not seeing this solution before. The last Quidditch match of the season had completely slipped his mind, but it was all the school had been talking about for days. Even though Gryffindor had lost the last game and did not make it to the final match, his whole House would still make an appearance to support Ravenclaw in their battle against Slytherin, whom they held an ongoing competition with. Better yet, James knew full well Snape had not missed a single House game since the beginning of the school year, and it was almost guaranteed to find him in the stands.

"Sirius?" James shouted as he rounded a corner. "Sirius, where are you?" Zipping around the hallway, he ran towards through the dungeons until his surroundings slowly grew darker and the air thickened around him. "Sirius, are you there?"

"James?" a voice answered out of the darkness, and James ran a few more doorways down until his friend came into view.

Panting, James held his knees and heaved heavily. "The Quidditch game . . . Snape will be there!" He saw a light flash in Sirius' eyes, but before he could answer, a door swung open to their left.

"Would you mind keeping the noise down?" Professor Slughorn asked, eyes narrowing as he blocked the entrance to his office. "You're disturbing the quiet I need for the

"Sorry, sir," Sirius replied. "We were just about to leave for the match."

"The game?" Professor Slughorn asked, his golden mustache twitching until realization struck him. "Quidditch? The Quidditch game? Oh no!" he exclaimed as his eyes widened, and he threw the door wide. "I completely forgot! What time is it? Has it started?"

"It's just starting now," James answered.

"Merlin's great aunt, I'm going to miss it!" Slughorn cried, grabbing a hat from a rack inside of his office and stuffing several bottles inside his robes' pockets haphazardly. "I completely lost track of time, working on several potions . . ." Mumbling dozens of excuses as he hurriedly prepared, he pushed his great girth out of the door and waddled off down the hall. "The last game . . . I can't believe . . . completely forgot . . ." Bustling off, he gradually disappeared from view down the hallway, and James and Sirius looked at each other blankly.

"Slytherins," James finally supplied, shrugging, and Sirius grinned. "Shall we go?" James asked. "Peter's waiting, and we need to catch Snape before he can—"

"Hold on," Sirius interrupted, and he opened the door to Slughorn's office and quickly entered. Curious, James followed and saw the object of his friend's attraction—or rather, objects. Several vats of broiling cauldrons simmered around the room, and numerous glass bottles both empty and bubbling with strange potions ranged the length of two long, wooden tables.

"Just a few drops of one of these," Sirius calculated, carefully inspecting the concoctions, "should put Snape out of commission for a few weeks."

"Brilliant!" James approved, and Sirius snatched a bottle of thick, nondescript liquid.

"Hold this," he ordered, tossing it to James, who caught it and read its handwritten label.

"Polyjuice Potion."

"That's no good," Sirius told him, shaking his head. "It just makes you look like someone else." Grabbing one bottle after another, he read their titles aloud. "Sesame Extract: good on salads; Norwegian Milk: causes slight gravity loss; Enveloping Potion: extremely powerful, do not get on ski—" Breaking off as he realized the bottle had no stopper, he flung the potion away before a threatening drop could fall and touch his hand. Smashing against the wall, the bottle splattered its contents all over the room, and the syrupy liquid started to bubble and swell. Pretty soon the tiny amount in the vial had tripled and had begun to ooze down the wall, eating everything in its path.

"Uh, we'd better go," Sirius announced, and James raced him for the door, mindlessly slipping the small bottle he held into the folds of his robes. Together they ran out of the dungeons and did not stop until they reached the school grounds, where they slowed down to catch their breaths as they neared the Quidditch pitch packed with screaming fans.

"Sounds like the match is picking up," James noted, and they trotted as fast as they could through the crowded stadium. Making their way towards the other Gryffindors, mostly decked in blue and silver hats or waving matching flags, they slipped under the wooden stands to join a wildly gesturing Peter.

"Wabenclaw's behind by twendy points," he filled in, shouting to be heard, "bud de're catching up." As he spoke, a wild cheer erupted from the Ravenclaws, and James peeked around the students to watch as ten points were awarded to them. Peter clapped heartily and then turned back to James and Sirius. "Slytherin's good, bud de're really hurding today."

"Good," James yelled over the din of the students. "Did you save us some seats?"

"Dey're over here," he shouted back, pointing to the left. "Come on!"

As Peter began leading them towards the stairs, James got his first good look at the pitch. Tori Hansfeld, the Captain and Seeker of the Ravenclaw team, was circling the pitch slowly in search for the Snitch. One of the Slytherin Chasers held the Quaffle close to his chest, but a Bludger sent from one of the Ravenclaw Beaters caught him on the shoulder, causing the Quaffle to fall into the arms of one of their Chasers. Another eruptive cheer from the crowd signaled another goal, and James glanced up at the score in the commentator's box just in time to see ten more points tie the game.

"Hey!" he cried out suddenly, stopping short and causing Sirius to run into him. Pointing at the commentator's box, occupied only by few odd staff members, he asked, "Where's Dumbledore?"

"Gone again, I reckon," Sirius mumbled unhappily from behind, rubbing his nose.

"Acdually," Peter piped up, "he was dere at the stard of the game. He left a few minudes ago when Professor McGonagall came to ged him."

"Did they say where he was going?" James prodded.

"No," Peter said. "Dey just left. Thompson got distracted dough, so everybody nodiced." He nodded towards the student commentator, who was chatting away happily over the dull roar of the other students.

"Just look at Bridge's speed! She's really at the top of her game today. She passes to Kirk, who dives under the—WHOA! A near call there, almost got hit by Jenson's Bludger. A little wobbly, but he strains . . ." An explosion from the crowd almost made James cover his ears in self-defense. "And ten more points to Ravenclaw; no surprise of course, after all . . ."

"Okay!" James yelled over the booming voice. "We get it, Ravenclaw's good."

"Acdually," Peter shouted to him, "it's more because . . ."

"Wait, James, over there!" Sirius yelled, grabbing James' shoulder and forcing him to look where his finger was pointing. With all the movement in the stadium, he did not see anything at first; however, after squinting his eyes he caught a brief flash of stringy, dark hair and a furtive pair of black eyes.

"There he is!" James exclaimed, his heart jumping into a high patter. "Finally crawled out of whatever slimy hole he was hiding in—"

"Whad?" Peter yelled over the noise.

"We'll be right back!" Sirius excused himself, pulling James down the stairs and into the crowd of excited students.

Knocking several people aside as they ran, they wound their way around the pitch towards the place where they had seen Snape. They had to backtrack several times, once completely abandoning the stadium altogether to dash alongside the exterior until they reached the next entrance. When they finally reached the area underneath the Slytherin side of the stands where they had seen him, both boys were out of breath.

"Where did he go?" James panted, running a hand through his already wild hair.

"Beats me," Sirius answered, taking in their surroundings. Hardly any other students were passing by in this part of the stadium, and those who were glared at the two small Gryffindors as if they were using up too much oxygen. Glaring at the unwelcoming Slytherins in equal measure, Sirius continued, "So do you reckon—"

He had no chance to continue. Whipping out his wand, James pointed it over his friend's head and aimed for the tweedy frame behind him, but Snape moved too quickly. In a heartbeat, he had vanished, pounding up the wooden stairs into the stands overhead.

"Could this be it?" Eric Thompson continued from the commentator's box. "Hansfeld dives, and Yun follows shortly after. I can't see what they're aiming for yet, but wait! There it is! A glint of gold, and the chase for the Snitch is on!"

"Come on!" James yelled, and he and Sirius rushed after their quarry. No sooner had they jumped up onto the benches than general pandemonium ensued.

"Move out of the way!"

"Come on, get out!"

"Quit shoving!"

"Excuse me, pardon me, coming through," James apologized rapidly, shielding his face from an onslaught of empty Chocolate Frog containers and vengeful elbows. Ahead of him, Snape flashed a look behind his back before using a fellow Housemate's shoulder to launch himself up a level. The boy cried out in irritation and stood up to give Snape a piece of his mind, but James and Sirius bowled him back over in their hurry to catch up.

"Some nasty jostling between the two Seekers. Neither is gaining . . ."

Eventually Snape slipped down to ground level again, and James and Sirius jumped after him to final cries of anger from the other Slytherins. Tearing through the dark bellies of the stands, James successfully dodged past several students until their thickness began to increase and it became harder to keep track of Snape's greasy head.

A roar from the crowd spurred on James' haste, and he picked up as much speed as he could in the midst of all the people filing to the edge of the stadium. He could only just make out the edge of Snape's robes . . .

"Closer and closer . . ."

Pushing someone aside, James made a hopeful surge and tripped over a protruding foot. Time seemed to slow as the ground grew closer.

"Yun flounders, the air speed is too great for his older model . . ."

Landing on his hands, James made to push up again, but Sirius caught his leg with his foot and crashed on top of him with a grunt.

"He falls behind! Hansfeld reaches out his hand . . ."

Scrambling out of the mess of limbs, James straightened up and scanned the crowd ahead. Snape had disappeared.

"And he catches it! 150 points to Ravenclaw, and congratulations for their second consecutive win of the Quidditch Cup!"

Scowling, James kicked the ground as the pitch erupted in celebration. Beside him, Sirius stood up.

"Sorry about that, mate," he apologized sheepishly, patting his robes down. Making a noncommittal noise in the back of his throat, James turned to watch Peter come huffing towards them.

"Dey won! Where were you?"

"Nowhere," James muttered, and he and Sirius joined him on the march out of the stadium.

"Dat was really great," Peter chatted on. "Did you see Hansfeld catch the Snitch? I bed you did. He was really good, and so was Bridge. She's really preddy, don't you think? It's a good thing Malfoy couldn't play today, or else Wabenclaw probably wouldn't have—"

"What?" James interrupted, staring at Peter. The smaller boy blinked.

"Dat's whad I've been trying to tell you," he said. "Malfoy called in sick before the game. Dey had a replacement."

"He what?" Sirius echoed, aghast, and he and James shared an alarmed glance.

"Yeah, he couldn't come, and dat's probably whad gave Wabenclaw the lead—"

"But he's their best Chaser," James told Sirius in a horror-filled voice.

"And he wouldn't quit on their last game for the world!" Sirius exclaimed.

"He definitely wasn't sick," James decided. "He was fine just a few days ago."

"So that only means . . ."

In shock, James and Sirius faced Peter again. He looked from one to the other in surprise.

"Is someding wrong?"

"No wonder Dumbledore left!" James cried, and he turned with Sirius to race back towards the castle, ignoring Peter's yells of alarm.

In minutes they had reached the entrance hall, which was empty except for Mrs. Norris, who meowed threateningly as they rushed past her and up the marble staircase. After several turns, they neared the all-too familiar gargoyle hall where Professors McGonagall, Flitwick, and Rainhill stood in front of Dumbledore's office in deep conversation.

"Professor!" James called out, and all three turned towards him as he skidded to a halt. "What happened? Is Professor Dumbledore here?"

Giving James a suspicious look, McGonagall said, "There has been a slight disturbance near his office. He is upstairs right now. Do you need him?"

"Did someone try to break in?" Sirius demanded. All three adults started.

"It's Lucius Malfoy, I know it is!" James began. "He faked his sickness so he could get up here—"

"He's been sneaking around with Snape for months!" Sirius added. "You need to stop him before he can pull off his plan—"

"I'm sure he's somewhere around here, or you can check in the Slytherin dormitories. Maybe he ran off to the hospital wing when you came—"

"You can ask Peter and Remus, they know too—"

"You've got to warn the Headmaster—"

"SILENCE!"

James and Sirius immediately hushed at Professor McGonagall's loud exclamation. Composing herself, she straightened her spectacles and cleared her throat. "I don't know where you two get your ideas, but I assure you that you are quite misinformed. Unless you have any evidence supporting your case, I suggest you keep your theories to yourselves." Embarrassed, James stared at the ground. "This doesn't concern you. And don't," she added forcefully, "go looking for Malfoy. A small word of advice: keep to yourselves and no trouble will come your way."

Having finished, she stepped past the boys and marched off down the hall, and James chanced a glance at Professors Flitwick and Rainhill. Both followed McGonagall, Flitwick giving a shake of his head and Rainhill eyeing them reprovingly. Sighing when they were out of earshot, James turned to Sirius.

"It's still him," he stated, undeterred.

"I know," Sirius answered, "but we don't have any proof."

Narrowing his eyes, James dug his fist into his palm and gritted his teeth. "Then let's get some."

Suddenly, a piercing scream from far below made both of the boys jump.

"My potions! My office!"


	11. The Battle of Greenhouse 1

**The Battle of Greenhouse #1**

As promised, the next few weeks were the busiest of James' life. Between juggling classes and keeping up with his dozens of homework assignments, he hardly had time to sleep. Try as he might to win some time alone with Sirius for discussing the details of Malfoy's plot, something always got in the way: surprise extra periods, agitated professors, and more often than not, Peter. Now fully healed from his encounter with Snape, he eagerly chatted about the coming exams and pleaded for studying advice whenever James was within earshot. As the circumstances allowed, none of the roommates talked except to exchange notes or to wish the others a good night's sleep every evening—that is, everyone except Remus.

"I really wish he would talk to us," Peter complained to James and Sirius early Monday morning of exam week, looking mournfully after Remus as he crossed the common room. He did not give so much as a breath in their direction before he slid through the portrait hole and disappeared. "He'd be a lot of help right now," Peter sighed, turning back to the others. "Transfiguration's the first test, and it's my worst subject." James stared at Peter and blinked wearily, wondering vaguely if having a worst subject at his academic level was even possible.

"Good luck getting him to share the secret to becoming the teachers' pet," Sirius muttered, staring into the fire darkly.

"Can you help me, James?" Peter asked imploringly, holding out his copy of A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration.

"What, right now?" James asked, rubbing his eyes underneath his glasses. "I'm kind of busy." Turning his cheerless gaze towards James, Sirius stared at him; dozens of books lay scattered about his armchair, none of them opened.

"It'll only take a second!" Peter insisted, and James accepted the book with a sigh.

"What do you want me to quiz you on?" he yawned, opening the cover.

"How about the steps for turning a rock into a teacup?" Screwing up his face, Peter grimaced in concentration. "It starts with the swirling motion with the wand, right? And then you point it at the . . . uh . . . the top first—"

"Side," James corrected impatiently.

"Right, the side, where the handle will be. I knew that. Then you move it . . . uh . . ."

Suddenly distracted by a wave of students exiting the common room, James looked up and closed the book. "No time, Peter: the exam starts in half an hour. We'd better go."

Together the three roommates put away their studying materials and trudged down Gryffindor Tower. After winding their way through the castle's hallways, they approached the Transfiguration classroom and huddled outside with the other nervous first-years desperately reviewing their notes. Absent-mindedly watching a Hufflepuff boy slowly unwind the frayed sleeve of his robe for five long minutes, James finally snapped to attention when Professor McGonagall opened the door and ushered the students inside.

"Your seats are assigned alphabetically by last name," she told them as they started to file in, and James shared a disappointed look with Sirius before they parted ways. Finding his name near the back of the classroom, he slid into the open desk as Peter sat down at the neighboring table and beamed.

"Hey look, James, we're sitting together!" he pointed out proudly, and James nodded in recognition.

"You have a full period to complete this exam," Professor McGonagall announced from the front of the classroom, sitting down and straightening a pile of paper on her desk while the rest of the first-years took their places. "You may not use your own quills; instead, you will all receive writing utensils enchanted with Anti-Cheating Spells. Don't stress yourselves, and do your best. The practical portion of the exam will be held directly after the written portion in room 34 on the third floor. You may begin as soon as you have the test."

When she finished speaking, a brief flash of panic squeezed James' chest, and he wondered whether or not he should have spent more time studying. Now that he was here, sitting down and about to receive the test, he felt a pang of nervousness for the first time. Just how hard were the exams, anyway? Were they as bad as Frank and the other second-years reported, or were they worse? He tried to calm down by reminding himself that he could probably recite the material in his sleep, but a nagging doubt still lingered in the back of his mind. Was there something he had missed after all?

Professor McGonagall took out her wand, gave her wrist a flick, and sent the exams sheets and quills flying to each of the desks. Staring down at the first question, James picked up his quill.

 _Name the four rules of a successful Transfiguration, along with a quick explanation regarding the dangers of lacking each trait in turn._

Relieved, James bent over and scribbled down his answer. _Wand movement, concentration, relaxation, and confidence. If the incorrect wand movement is performed, the object targeted will at best refuse to transform or may even explode, contort wildly, or attack the caster. The caster needs concentration to successfully transfigure the object through to the end, relaxation to bend the object to his will, and confidence to apply the previous three traits at the same time._

James answered the next few questions rather easily, and time ticked on until nearly an hour had passed. Fifteen minutes before the exam came to a close, he leaned back in his chair and nodded satisfactorily to himself. Spying Sirius a few tables to his left, he gave a quick grin, and his friend responded with a thumbs-up. Soon most of the other students had finished as McGonagall rose.

"The exam is now over. Put down your quills and get ready to follow me upstairs for the practical portion." Giving a wave of her wand, she caused the tests to fly back to her desk in a neat pile. Peter gave a little whimper as his exam left him, but he stood bravely with the rest of the students as they filed out of the room in turn and followed Professor McGonagall.

Catching up to Sirius with Peter, James fell into step beside him. Sighing, Sirius announced, "Well, there goes an hour of my life I'll never get back."

"It wasn't hard at all!" James agreed. "I don't know why I was worried."

"You were worried?" Sirius asked, raising an eyebrow. James punched his arm good-naturedly, and Peter bit his lip nervously.

"I don't know how well I did," he told them. "I don't think I got all the history questions right. Did Christopher Pyle come up with the Twenty-One Laws of Animate Transfiguration or did Willard Burg?"

"Well, seeing as they're called Burg's Laws . . ." Sirius supplied before trailing off.

"Oh," Peter said meekly, furrowing his brow and looking more concerned than ever.

"Don't worry," James encouraged, giving Peter a pat on the back. "You'll get this next part. It's just wand techniques, and you've been practicing nonstop for weeks."

Smiling feebly, Peter pulled out A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration and began reading intently. Looking at James tiredly, Sirius gave him a stop-getting-his-hopes-up look as they walked up a set of stairs. The first-years rounded the corner on the next floor and headed up one last flight until they reached the Transfiguration testing room. Outside of it waited Professor McGonagall, who stopped them by holding out her hand.

"You will each enter one at a time, and I will individually assess all you have learned over the past year. Will Caleb Adams please come forward?"

Stepping out from the crowd, a small Ravenclaw straightened himself with a determined look and steeled his gaze. Together he and McGonagall walked into the room, and the door shut with a click. The rest of the first-years exchanged harried glances and set to their books, settling down along the far wall. After a few minutes, Adams opened the door and came out, and several of the other Ravenclaws shot to their feet expectantly. When he joined them, they began to whisper feverishly. The next test took longer, and the girl finally came out shaking slightly and biting her lip. Seeing her appearance, Peter let out a small, dismal sound from the back of his throat.

"Sirius Black," McGonagall's voice called out. Dozens of eyes peered after Sirius as he stretched, yawned, and stepped into the testing room. Slightly impatient, James resorted to playing with his wand, and his small fireworks soon brought angry glares from the first-years going over their notes. One of the Hufflepuffs looked just about ready to strangle him when the door opened with a bang. Apparently unfazed by the reverent silence in the hallway, Sirius made no effort to quiet the patter of his shoes as he joined James and Peter.

"Was it hard?" Peter immediately questioned.

"Yeah," Sirius yawned, pushing his back up against the wall. "I don't know how she expects us to stay awake that long." A few of the surrounding students stifled giggles as the tension released, and the next person to enter the room did so with a small spring in his step.

Time seemed to pass faster after that, and soon Peter was sent into the testing room. Several minutes later, he came out with the look of someone who had been hit in the forehead with a broomstick. Joining James and Sirius, he whispered, "I don't think she'll let me get by. My candle still had a spout."

"James Potter," McGonagall called from behind the door, and James gave a quick wave before he hurried into the room.

Before him stood a table topped with dozens of seemingly random objects, and Professor McGonagall stood just in front of it, transforming a magnifying glass back into its original shape. Sighing and rubbing her forehead, she closed the door and crossed the room so she stood on the other side of the table.

"Not to assume anything before you show your work, but I expect good things from you," she told James. "You were always adept at the practical assignments, if not at paying attention in class."

James grinned. "What do I have to do?"

"Turn this stopwatch into a shoe, the Galleon into a knife, and the china plate into a picture frame," Professor McGonagall instructed, pointing at each item in turn.

Taking out his wand, James pointed it at the stopwatch and gave it a short flick. Immediately the chain began to tremble, and it whipped around the stopwatch's body and melted into the glass as it expanded. Giving a final shudder, the watch grew a pointed tip on its end and morphed into a brand-new Oxford. McGonagall nodded satisfactorily as James turned to the blue and white platter nearby and waved his wand over it. In a matter of seconds, it grew four wooden corners and a gaping hole in the middle.

"Good," Professor McGonagall praised when he finished. "And the Galleon?"

"You can't transfigure Galleons," James said, crossing his arms. "The third meeting of the Wizengamot in the year 1751. Wizarding currency is infused with Immutability Spells at the time of minting."

"How you picked that up, I will never know," she told him, pointing her wand at the Oxford and reversing the spell. "You may go now."

Smiling, James spun on his heel and marched out of the room, giving a thumbs-up to Sirius and Peter as he approached.

"Did you pass?" Peter asked excitedly.

"Easy," James answered, and Peter grinned despite himself.

The next week passed rather rapidly with one exam after another. On Tuesday was the Charms test, and James completed all of Professor Flitwick's spells without difficulty. After that came History of Magic, which, although as boring as ever, went decently well considering Professor Binns' talent for sending his information right through his students' ears and out the other side. No one exited the room with much confidence, but neither did anyone particularly care whether they passed or failed. Wednesday brought solely Defense Against the Dark Arts, but there was no worry about the material, since the first-years had been going over the same spells and theories for what seemed like years. Still, the day seemed to fly by as Thursday came, bringing the Astronomy exam, overseen by the class's professor, Aurora Sinistra.

Considering how quickly the week passed, James began to grow slightly depressed. By the weekend, Hogwarts would recede into the mist, and he did not know whether or not he would see his roommates over the summer. Sirius had promised to try and get permission from his parents to visit, but from the way he acted, it was going to be a long shot. Also, James could not help but feel saddened every time he spotted Remus from across the Gryffindor common room. He still did not make eye contact with any of his roommates, and James wondered how their relationships would fare when they returned to their dormitory in the fall.

For these reasons, Thursday passed more quickly than he would have liked, and Friday began with a sour note. Like all the other professors, Slughorn personally administered his Potions exam, and James had enough to worry about with adequately completing his Pianissimo Potion before the period ended without receiving a distinctly unhelpful vibe from the portly professor. After Slughorn cleared his throat for the sixth time as he glanced over James' shoulder, he was about ready to test out his concoction by shoving it down the wizard's throat. When the period finally ended, James carefully poured his fizzing, orange potion into a vial to be examined, making sure not to get any of the liquid on himself when it sparked angrily. Placing the bottle on the front desk next to the other quietly humming blue vials, he received a frown from Slughorn. Clenching his fists tightly, James prepared for the worst.

"I wonder . . ." Professor Slughorn muttered, reaching out and turning James' potion upside down. One drop fell from the opening and issued a cacophony of orchestral bangs as it hit the wood of the desk, flashing spectacularly before it evaporated. Several of the students let out appreciative gasps.

"Remarkable," Slughorn commented, twisting the stopper into place. "Not quite what I was looking for, but you have managed to create a perfect Fortissimo Potion. I wasn't sure how well you'd do, but you've given me a lot to think about."

Exiting the room in contemplation, James pondered his probabilities of passing as Sirius and Peter walked up behind him. "Nice job," Sirius congratulated. "Mine was just sub-par."

"You were trying to make a Fortissimo Potion, weren't you?" Peter asked James, who shrugged noncommittally. "Do you think he'll accept it?" Peter questioned again.

"To be honest, I don't really care," James answered. "That's one classroom I don't mind if I never walk into it again."

"Besides Classroom 4F," Sirius added, indicating the location for History of Magic. "When are the other professors going to let Binns know he's a ghost?"

"Maybe he's just haunting the classroom," James suggested. "He not exactly scary, but he's certainly a bane on our existence."

Conversing about the duties and pastimes of ghosts as they continued down the halls, the three dodged Peeves' enchanted paper airplanes on their way out onto the school grounds and towards the last exam of the week. Outside of Greenhouse #1 stood the other congregating first-years, waiting for Professor Sprout to make her last preparations. Watching her movements on the other side of the glass, James did not notice Hagrid approaching until he felt the earth vibrate under his feet.

"'Ello, James, Sirius, Peter," the oversized man greeted in a booming voice, hoisting a gigantic ceramic pot with a coiled fern higher up on his shoulder. Looking around in confusion, he pushed one of the plant's tendrils away with his free hand as it tried to wrap around his throat. "Where's the other one?"

"Not here yet," James replied quickly.

"Ah, seems like I always jus' miss 'im. Could yeh tell Professor Sprout I brought this over? I'd bring it inside, but I'm a bit too tall ter fit under the door, and I don't wan' her ter have to push me out again." Lowering the pot, he dropped it onto the ground with a shudder. "Besides, I have ter to make sure Fang's 'ad enough ter eat before we make our rounds tonight. Never know 'ow long Dumbledore'll be gone."

"He's gone again?" James asked, narrowing his eyes. "Does he even like his job?"

"Now, don't be unfair," Hagrid argued, crossing his arms. "'E loves this school an' everythin' about it, but sometimes his duties pull him away from Hogwarts. If the Ministry could take care of the mess in Wiltshire all by themselves, he'd be back 'ere takin' care of his own, be sure of tha'." Glancing at the greenhouse as Professor Sprout distributed a bucketful of trowels with a clatter, Hagrid straightened. "Anyways, I'd best be goin'. Good luck on yer exam; it's the last one, righ'?" Sighing deeply, he seemed to sadden before trudging back down to his hut.

As he lumbered off, James frowned. Dumbledore was disappearing far more often than he should. If the Ministry was really incapable of dealing with a few Muggle attacks, how come Eugenia Jenkins was still Minister?

"All right, come on in," Professor Sprout announced, swinging open the door to the greenhouse. "Take your places along the shelves at each pot, and for goodness sakes, don't touch anything until I tell you to."

Obediently following the herd of first-years inside, James inwardly wrestled with his train of thought. The Ministry was the highest order of wizards in Great Britain other than the Wizengamot, and both were led by Jenkins. Not just anyone could work at the Ministry; only the best candidates were picked, sometimes after years of study. No, the Ministry had to know what it was doing.

Everyone had taken their places, and Professor Sprout began to give instructions. Not taking in any of her words, James fingered the leaves of the tiny bud in his pot. Things simply had to be really bad if the Ministry needed Dumbledore's help. If Death Eaters were behind most of the attacks, they would definitely need an extra hand or two.

All the students turned to face the shelves, and James subconsciously did the same. No, he decided, Dumbledore always left Hogwarts after the damage had been done. How good was he with a wand, anyway? He had to at least be one thousand years old by now. Why did they need him, then? To figure out who had been behind the attacks? That sounded right; Dumbledore was famously intelligent. However, as far as James could remember, no one had ever been incriminated in The Daily Prophet for the raids. Why was no one ever caught? Surely if anyone could find the culprits, it was Dumbledore.

Prodding his bud, he frowned and looked to the side to see what the other students were doing with theirs. Seeing an abundance of trowels, he picked up his and poked around the base of the plant. The Death Eaters had to be moving quickly, too. They were always gone before Dumbledore got there, and probably even before the Ministry arrived. All the attacks were very well-planned if they could hop in and out like that. Also, for all the press they received, the damage never seemed that great. A Muggle or two was always injured, but the incident with Ellyn Tracker seemed like the worst of the lot, and everyone agreed she was not targeted specifically. The attacks seemed more like noise than anything else the longer James thought about them. Maybe that was the point: if the Death Eaters were really trying to make a statement, they would be causing more harm. Instead, they were merely pulling off the heists as diversions—but why? To catch the Ministry off-guard? To get Dumbledore away from Hogwarts?

Suddenly, James' head snapped up. Every time Dumbledore had left, every time he had gone to help the Ministry, something had gone wrong. Even when he was watching the Quidditch game, someone had tried to get into his office . . .

"Sirius!" James hissed across the greenhouse. "Sirius!" His friend did not turn, but some of the other students shot looks of annoyance. "Sirius, you deaf git, this is important!" James tried once more. Sighing in irritation, he ran a hand through his hair and thought rapidly. Finally, he pulled out his wand and pointed it towards the monstrous fern Hagrid had brought and which Professor Sprout was now heaving through the greenhouse doorway.

" _Iratus_ ," he whispered, and a wave of air blasted from his wand tip and punched the center of the fern. Coiling up defensively, it unfurled a moment later and began lashing out at everything within its reach. Crying out, Professor Sprout toppled over backwards as the tendrils shoved her away, and the students near the front began to scream as the wrathful vines pushed gardening tools off of counters and ripped apart neighboring plants. Soon all the greenery in the vicinity were writhing frantically in an attempt to defend themselves from the furious shrub.

"Get out!" Professor Sprout cried over the screaming and the shredding. "Everyone, get out!"

All hesitation gone, the first-years shielded their heads with their arms and elbows as they rushed out of the greenhouse and onto the school grounds, where they turned and watched the plants wage war on the other side of the glass.


	12. Into the Headmaster's Office

**Into the Headmaster's Office**

As soon as he stepped outside, James darted behind the open door and waited for Sirius to run out. When he passed through the opening, he grabbed his arm and pulled him aside while the other students gathered around Professor Sprout.

"What's the big idea?" Sirius protested, but James cut him off.

"You know how Dumbledore's always disappearing?" he asked quickly. "Do you remember the accident with Ellyn Tracker, the Keeper for the Lucky Leprechauns?"

"Yes," Sirius answered, eyeing him curiously.

"Do you know how she was hurt in one of the Muggle attacks? And do you know how everyone thought she was hurt on accident, like the attacks never seem to do much damage? Don't you think the Death Eaters would be hurting more people if they really meant it?"

"Well . . ."

"Think about it: the attacks are always bad enough to get Dumbledore out of Hogwarts, but never bad enough to make the Death Eaters stick around long enough for the Ministry to get there."

"Sure," Sirius agreed after a moment's pause, "but what does that have to do with—"

"Don't you see?" James exclaimed. "They're trying to get Dumbledore away from Hogwarts! Whenever he leaves, someone always tries to get into his office!"

Slowly, Sirius' eyes widened. "Merlin's beard, you're right! But who—"

"It's Malfoy," James interrupted. "I'm sure he's a Death Eater. That's why he stayed during Christmas, why he asked Snape to help make a secret potion, why he called in sick for the Quidditch match! He hadn't succeeded earlier, so he decided to try for it while the whole school was distracted."

Suddenly, Sirius gripped James' arms. "You don't mean—"

"Yes. He'll have to try again before we all go home tomorrow. He'll strike tonight during the end-of-term feast, sure as eggs is eggs. He's already got Dumbledore to leave, and everyone will be in the Great Hall in just half an hour. It's up to us to stop him."

"Count me in," Sirius agreed. "But how do we get up to Dumbledore's office without anyone stopping us? Even with the students and the professors in the Great Hall, someone is bound to be in the corridors: Filch, Mrs. Norris, Peeves, one of the ghosts . . ."

"I've already thought of that," James asserted, reaching into his robes' pocket and pulling out a small flask. "See this? It's the Polyjuice Potion from Slughorn's office. All we have to do is find a bit of Dumbledore's hair, and we have a free ride through the castle."

"But where are we going to find some of his hair?" Sirius interjected.

"His chair at the High Table," James answered. "We'll grab my Invisibility Cloak so we can get in and out without anyone seeing us."

"But why can't we just take your Invisibility Cloak up to Dumbledore's office?"

"Ah," James said, holding up a finger, "but we need someone to give the password, right? Besides, it'll give Malfoy a real scare to see Dumbledore come back to his office a little early. Clever, huh?"

Rubbing his chin, Sirius thought for a moment and then nodded. "Okay, but who will drink the potion?"

"We need someone smart, someone with Dumbledore's natural wit. We need someone who can pull off his character, preferably someone who's met him before . . ." As James trailed off and stared expectantly at Sirius, his friend clenched his jaw.

"Remus," he stated coldly.

"Come on!" James implored. "It'll be perfect! He'll distract Malfoy while we sneak around to get a good shot at him and jump out when he least expects it."

For a moment, Sirius said nothing. Then . . .

"Fine," he finally agreed, kicking at the dirt. "But he won't come with us readily."

"We'll force him at wand-point if we have to," James replied, grinning. "I'll get my Invisibility Cloak. You look for Remus."

Nodding, they broke apart and ran for the castle entrance, where Professor Sprout and the other first-years had disappeared into while they were talking. Once inside, James bounded up the stairs while Sirius took a turn on the lower floor, searching for the rest of the Herbology class. Five statues and one staircase later, James greeted the Fat Lady with, "Omnioculars," and rushed up to his dormitory, where he snatched the Invisibility Cloak from his four-poster. A few minutes after first entering the castle, he skidded to a halt in front of the Great Hall and found Sirius waiting.

"Well?" James asked, panting.

"He must have gone in to the feast," Sirius explained, looking back and forth to ensure the passing students were not eavesdropping. "You didn't see him in our room?"

"No," James answered, pulling out the shimmering Cloak. "I guess we'll just grab him when we pass by." Flapping out the fabric, he was about to fling it over the two of them when a student broke out of the steady stream entering the Great Hall.

"Oh, there you are!" Peter greeted happily, waltzing up to them. "Aren't you coming in? It's about to start."

Groaning, James stuffed the Cloak behind his back. "No, we don't have time—"

"Is that your Invisibility Cloak?" Peter questioned, pointing behind James. "What are you planning to do?" Dejectedly, James and Sirius looked at each other, and James decided their innocence act was not going to work.

"Okay, look, Peter," he explained, uncovering the Cloak, "Malfoy's going to try to get into Dumbledore's office while everyone's distracted during the feast. We have to get inside, grab Remus, and snatch a piece of Dumbledore's hair without anyone seeing us." Peter stared at James blankly, and he mentally berated himself for not providing a more thorough explanation. Fully expecting Peter to protest or ask for more information, he was surprised when he simply nodded.

"Okay," he said. "I can help you."

"Really?" Sirius asked, raising an eyebrow in surprise.

"I'll tell Remus," Peter offered, "and you get whatever you need."

Bouncing off into the Hall, he left James and Sirius in a stunned silence. "Well, that's that," James finally spoke up, holding out the Cloak. "Shall we?"

When a lull in the passing crowd provided an opportunity, both boys disappeared underneath the Invisibility Cloak and inched forward. Fortunately long enough to cover their toes with a few inches of extra space, the fabric swished fluidly as they entered the Great Hall and wove through the throngs of students taking their seats and conversing animatedly. Two excited fifth-years almost ran into them, but Sirius pulled James away just in time to sneak through an opening to the right. Finally, they crept around to the High Table, carefully avoiding Professor Slughorn's wide girth and skirting around Rainhill's perpetually empty seat to make it to the center of the table, where Dumbledore's magnificent mahogany chair stretched over their heads.

"Help me up," James whispered urgently, and Sirius pushed him upwards so he could support himself on the arm of the chair. Scanning the intricate designs of the wood, he caught sight of a pearly white thread stuck in one of the lions engraved in the back. His hand shot out to grab it, but when he caught hold of the strand, his feet wobbled unsteadily as Sirius' grip wavered. With a grunt of surprise, James fell off the chair and landed on top of his friend, his hand briefly flashing out from the Cloak's concealment. Not daring to breathe, he watched Professor McGonagall look their way at the unexpected sound and frown in confusion. She leaned closer, but after peering curiously for a moment, she straightened and glanced away.

A vicious nudge from Sirius signaled their cue to leave, and they silently stood and hurried towards the great double doors. Slipping through when no one was entering, they exited the Great Hall and pulled off the Invisibility Cloak, panting nervously. Just then, Peter ran out from the feast and puffed up to them.

"Did you get it?" he asked, and James held up his fist to show the strand of hair.

"Where's Remus?" Sirius questioned, and Peter held up his hands.

"I don't know, he wasn't at the Gryffindor table," he answered. "Do you think he's in our room?"

"We've already looked there," James replied, shaking his head. "He wouldn't miss the feast, would he?" Everyone fell silent as they began to think, but only a few moments had passed before Sirius suddenly brightened.

"I've got it! Where's Remus always at when he's not with us or in class?" he asked the others, putting his hands on his hips and smiling proudly. Confused, James and Peter shared a glance.

"The loo?" Peter guessed.

"The library!" Sirius exclaimed.

"But we don't have any more exams," James argued. "The school year's over."

"The feast technically doesn't start for a few more minutes," Sirius explained, "and I didn't see Mr. Jaune inside yet. You know Remus borrows his textbooks—he's probably returning them before the library closes."

"Great idea," James agreed, and they all turned and zipped off down the corridors, passing a few Hufflepuffs on the way to the library. A short time later they approached their destination, and James stopped to peer through the door. Sure enough, Remus was handing Mr. Jaune his schoolbooks over the counter, apparently the last student to make the exchange.

"Wait right there," the librarian rasped, rubbing the bindings of the books as if he held bags of precious gems. "I'll get you a form." Turning, he waddled off into a room behind the counter.

"I have an idea," James whispered to Sirius. "Use the Disarray Spell."

Nodding, Sirius pulled out his wand and readied it. Taking out his own and pointing it at the towering bookcases, James waited until Sirius had shot the spell out of his wand-tip before following his lead.

" _Procella!_ " James commanded, and he watched as his spell crashed into Sirius' with a bang, causing Remus to jump in surprise and turn around as the two combined and expanded. When the new, significantly larger spell hit the nearest bookcase, it sent dozens of books spinning out of their places and colliding with nearby shelves. Soon a tumult of rustling parchment filled the room as the reaction spread throughout the entire hall, causing utter chaos as the newly un-alphabetized books flapped around the ceiling.

"Psst," James hissed to the horrified Remus, who whipped around at the sound. Immediately assessing the situation when he saw all three of his roommates leaning against the doorway, he glared angrily.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded.

"No time to explain," James answered, holding out his Invisibility Cloak and grinning victoriously. "Either we tell you on the way, or you get blamed for the single biggest mess in Hogwarts' history." Gritting his teeth, Remus glanced from him to the confusion behind and back again.

"You're all mental," he finally growled, storming out of the library and under the wing of the Invisibility Cloak. Just a few seconds after the boys had started to run again, they heard a strangled scream of agony from behind, and it motivated them to pick up their pace as they raced through the halls.

"Okay, what's going on?" Remus finally demanded a stairwell above the library, throwing off the Cloak and halting. Talking over one another eagerly, the other three quickly filled him in on the story; Remus remained stoic throughout the tale until they had finished, arms crossed stubbornly.

"Do you have any definite proof?" he finally asked when they stopped talking.

"None the professors will understand, which is why we're getting some now," James answered, pulling out the vial of Polyjuice Potion and the strand of Dumbledore's hair. Dropping the thread of hair into the potion, he watched the liquid turn from a nondescript hue to a shining silver. Satisfied, he handed the bottle to Remus.

"What's this?" he asked, suddenly on the defensive.

"Polyjuice Potion with Dumbledore's hair in it," James replied, pushing him into a walk in the direction of the gargoyle hall as his eyes widened. "You're going to pretend to be Dumbledore while we attack Malfoy from behind. His office is at the end of the hall."

"I'm not going to drink that!" Remus protested.

"If you don't, I will," Sirius suddenly snapped, letting out all the frustration that had been building in him for the past month. "And unlike you, I don't care what state Dumbledore finds his office in when he returns."

There was silence for a moment as Sirius locked eyes with Remus and stared him down stubbornly. Finally, Remus sighed.

"I'm going to regret this," he groaned, plugging his nose and tipping up the bottom of the vial. As soon as the liquid touched his lips, he dropped the bottle and doubled over with a grunt; the other three watched in awe as his face wrinkled rapidly and his stature grew until a perfect replica of Albus Dumbledore stood before them.

"Well, that was . . . disgusting," Remus commented in Dumbledore's deep voice. Holding out an arm, he examined his wizened hand with fascination. "These robes are a bit tight."

"No problem," Sirius said in a much happier tone, smirking slightly. Waving his wand, he lengthened the sleeves and embroidered the hems with a touch of gold reminiscent of Dumbledore's personal style. "Better?"

"Mmm," Remus grunted. "What about his spectacles?"

"Here, use these," James offered, taking off his glasses and pulling out his wand. Transfiguring their round lenses into half-moons, he handed the pair to Remus, who put them on his nose.

"Blimey, your eyesight is really bad, James," he mentioned, shaking his head as if to clear it. "Are you sure this is a good idea?" he asked. "How long does this last, anyway?"

"About an hour," James replied, "but if might depend on how much was in the bottle." As Remus eyed the minuscule vial hesitantly, James offered the Invisibility Cloak to Sirius and Peter. "Come on." Obediently lifting the cloth over his head, Sirius held it open for Peter, who narrowed his eyes.

"I thought you said there was only room for two people under it," he reminded them suspiciously. Alarmed, James and Sirius shared a glance.

"Oh, did we? Sorry about that, mate," Sirius apologized with a sheepish smile. "I guess there's room for three after all." Still doubtful, Peter shrugged the Cloak over his head, and the Remus-Dumbledore led the way forward into the gargoyle hall.

When they reached the end, the grotesque statue in front of the stairwell to Dumbledore's office stared unblinkingly down at them. "What now?" Remus whispered harshly from the corner of his mouth.

"Say 'Peppermint toad,'" James prodded.

"Peppermint toad," Remus obediently repeated. The statue did not move.

"That was months ago, James," Sirius hissed, nudging him in the ribs. "It's bound to have changed."

Pulling out his wand, Remus pointed it at the gargoyle. " _Alohomora!_ " When it did not respond to the Unlocking Charm, he widened his eyes with worry. "Uh, Pumpkin Pasties. Giant squid. Galloping gargoyles. _Expelliarmus_?" he tried rapidly. Sighing when the statue remained immobile, he crossed his arms and gave his best Dumbledore-style glare. "Look, are we going to do this all night? I'm an old man; surely I've earned the right to forget my password once in a while. You've been sitting there all day; if there's someone in my office who shouldn't be, I need to be let up."

He glared at the immobile gargoyle for several long moments, but he eventually let out a sigh and turned around. "Guys, I don't think it's going to—"

Suddenly, the groaning of moving stone interrupted his sentence as the gargoyle slid aside. All four turned and stared, astounded, at the new opening.

"I hope no one has ever done that before," Remus said before composing himself. Walking forward, he led the way up the stairs, and James, Sirius, and Peter did their best to remain concealed underneath the Cloak as they ascended each step. After what seemed like hours of slow shuffling, they finally reached the top.

"Well," Remus said, straightening himself up to his new full height, "here goes nothing."

Reaching forward, he pushed the door open.


	13. The Imperius Curse

**The Imperius Curse**

Professor Rainhill was standing over Dumbledore's desk.

"Ahem," the Remus-Dumbledore politely coughed after a moment's pause, and Rainhill glanced up at the noise. The two stared at each other for several long, tense moments.

"What are you doing in my office?" Remus finally managed.

Apparently at a loss for words, Rainhill shifted his body and shot a downward look at the table before giving a wheezing cough. "Well . . . er. . ."

Suddenly, a shining object from behind Rainhill's back caught James' attention, and Remus seemed to notice the red glint as well. "What are you doing with that?" he demanded, pointing at the ruby handle of the sword of Gryffindor.

Seeming to realize that his act was over, Professor Rainhill reacted with surprising speed and whipped out his wand from his cloak. Leveling it at Remus, who had also pulled out his own wand the moment he had seen Rainhill go for his, he stared his rival down with an almost uninterested gaze. Nudging his companions underneath the Invisibility Cloak, James threw off the fabric to reveal all three of them with their wands pointed at Rainhill's chest.

"You?" James asked, not daring to move his extended arm. "But it doesn't make sense: it was Malfoy who tried to break in here all year! He's the one who's been distracting the Ministry when the school was nearly empty, and he's the one who stole from that supply room down the hall! He even dropped out of the last Quidditch game to try and break in here!"

"Impressive," a young voice spoke from behind them, and before anyone could turn around, an invisible force had snatched their wands from their hands. Whipping around, James watched Lucius Malfoy catch their only weapons in his left hand while holding out his wand with his other to keep them from retaliating.

"Funny," Malfoy commented, leaning nonchalantly on the wall next to the door, which he closed with his foot. "I didn't think anyone would figure it out."

Straightening up to Dumbledore's full height, Remus put on a show of composure despite the less-than-ideal circumstances. "Malfoy, I expect you to explain yourself at once," he demanded, and the two locked eyes for a long moment.

"Are you really in a position to ask that, Lupin?" Malfoy finally inquired, and all four boys caught their breaths in surprise. "Oh, your disguise fooled me for a moment there—that is, until you pulled out this," Malfoy explained, and he held up Remus' captured wand. "Dumbledore's is much longer."

As Malfoy casually stepped forward, James silently cursed and glanced around the room, squinting his eyes to make up for the loss of his glasses, which were still perched on Remus' nose. Behind Dumbledore's desk stood a wide, tall window, the only escape route besides the door, which was guarded by Malfoy. None of the previous Headmasters or Headmistresses offered any help from their portraits on the wall, and James thought they looked as if a spell had stunned them into immobility. Racking his brain to remember anything useful he saw during his last trip into the office, he eyed Malfoy carefully as he stepped closer. Suddenly, an idea struck him, and he avoided glancing towards the empty bird perch to his left.

"What is Professor Rainhill doing here?" James asked Malfoy as he took a small step, determined to keep him distracted. "Is he on your side?"

"Not technically," Malfoy answered unconcernedly, "but the Imperius Curse has kept him quite handy."

Alarmed, James shared a glance with Sirius. "So you took over his mind?"

"I first tried it at the beginning of the school year," Malfoy replied smugly.

"Is that why we never learned anything in Defense Against the Dark Arts?" Sirius asked, bristling despite his astonishment.

"Keeping him under control over long distances was difficult," Malfoy told them. "I wasn't purposefully depriving you of your educations, but it all seems to have worked out for the best. Unfortunately, I couldn't keep up the curse for very long, and if I released it, Rainhill would rat me out. So that's where the Draught of Living Death came in."

"The potion Snape made for you," James voiced out loud, realization dawning. "You gave it to Professor Rainhill when you were busy just to wake him up again later."

"Astounding," Malfoy commented, pausing and taking a closer look at James. "How did you know about the potion?"

James shrugged and used the movement to step ever so slightly to the left. "So if Snape was helping you, why isn't he here?"

"Oh, don't be ridiculous—I didn't tell him what the potion was for," Malfoy replied. "It would have been too much of a risk if someone else had known. No, it's just me. I daresay even Rainhill doesn't know what hit him." Giving a shake of his wand, he beckoned Professor Rainhill out from behind the desk so they stood side-by-side.

"Is that what you stole potion ingredients for?" James continued. "To make the Draught of Living Death?"

"That's what I was doing that day in the storage room, but unfortunately, not all the ingredients were that easy to come by. Luckily, I found a patch of asphodel on the grounds and was able to give Snape enough of the herbs to continue making the potion."

"But how did you know when to attack?"

"I had friends on the outside," Malfoy answered with a smirk. "They were able to pull off a few distractions when I needed it."

"You mean Death Eaters?" James asked, and Malfoy's smile turned into a guarded glare. "That Somerset attack was part of your plan?"

"Ah, you remember that," he suddenly commented with a rueful smile. "It certainly gave me the opportunity I needed. Unfortunately, I still didn't have the password to Dumbledore's office at that time, and breaking in proved much more difficult than I had previously thought. Eventually I obtained the password before the last Quidditch game, but the professors arrived before I could properly act. I had to make sure that the next time I struck, the Headmaster would be off the grounds, but the rest of the school wasn't occupied until tonight."

Smirking to himself, Malfoy guided Professor Rainhill closer with his wand. "All that said, I can't let you four leave with all this information."

As the others reacted around him, James used the excuse to back away a few more steps. "Whoa, hold on a second!" he protested.

"What are you going to do?" Peter asked fearfully.

"Well, wiping your memories or killing you directly would be too obvious, so I think I'll stage a little accident. With any luck they'll think you were the ones trying to get in all year. Or," Malfoy added with a smile and a shrug, "they won't recognize you at all."

"I'd like to see you try and hurt us," Sirius snarled.

Laughing, Malfoy responded, "Not very bright, are you?"

"Speak for yourself," James said, reaching behind him surreptitiously. "We won't go down without a fight."

Grabbing a handful of glowing coals from Fawkes' abandoned perch, he winced through the discomfort and threw his arsenal at Malfoy's face. He let out a cry of surprise and pain, covering his eyes with his elbow while Professor Rainhill looked at his captor, startled. Reacting instantly, Sirius jumped forward and grabbed their wands out of Malfoy's hand, tossing them back to their owners. As soon as he felt the familiar wooden handle of his wand, James pointed it at Malfoy but hesitated while wondering what spell to use, as he still could not see properly without his glasses.

" _Stupefy!_ " Malfoy yelled first, pointing his wand at Sirius, and Sirius dodged just as a red jet of light sped out of his wand and exploded the vase behind him.

" _Lumos!_ " James finally decided, shutting his eyes, and the bright flash caused Malfoy to yell again and cover his face.

" _Expelliarmus!_ " Sirius shouted, but Malfoy ducked just in time, causing the spell to shatter the gigantic window behind Dumbledore's desk. Shielding his head from the falling glass, James spotted Remus Disarming Professor Rainhill across the room. The old man tried to lift the sword of Gryffindor into a defensive position, but his fragile muscles trembled under its heavy weight. Seeming to sense the circumstances turning, Malfoy glanced from James to Sirius and back again, holding his wand out at the ready.

"That's four against two," James told him triumphantly.

Glancing up towards the other side of the room, Malfoy smiled unpleasantly. "Just one," he replied, and he flicked his wand. In obedience to the Imperius Curse, Professor Rainhill leaped onto the wide windowsill and stepped on the shattered glass with a cracking sound, his gray hair and robes ruffling in the wind.

" _Accio!_ " Malfoy yelled, and the sword of Gryffindor suddenly flew out of Rainhill's grasp and towards his waiting hand.

" _Expelliarmus!_ " Remus reacted, pointing his wand at the sword just as Malfoy caught it. Releasing it with a hiss as it flew towards Remus instead, Malfoy raised his wand only to be driven back by James a moment later as his hex smashed into the wall beside him. Cursing, Malfoy gave another flick of his wand, opened the door to the office, and disappeared down the stairs. Just as James began to run after him, a cry from behind stopped him in his tracks.

"James!" Sirius yelled. "It's Professor Rainhill!" Turning around, James saw the old wizard take a step closer to the edge of the windowsill and the school grounds below.

"No!" he shouted, abandoning the doorway and hopping over the broken glass shards covering the floor in an attempt to reach him. Time seemed to slow, and he saw Sirius and Remus running towards Rainhill as he took another step backwards, this time his heel slipping off the smooth stone. As he tipped over the parapet, James knew they would not be able to reach him in time.

" _Wingardium Leviosa!_ "

Professor Rainhill fell backwards, completely disappearing from view. Gasping, James clenched his fists and readied himself for an ominous thud, but all was quiet. Then, slowly but steadily, a bit of dark, wrinkled fabric appeared over the lip of the window; Professor Rainhill gradually came back into view, floating gently upwards by his robes where they were bunched up over his chest. His toes grazed against the stone surface of the windowsill as his body Levitated back into the room and settled, motionless, onto the floor. Still taking in what had just happened, James turned to find the caster of the spell and spotted Peter, wand raised and breathing heavily, staring uncomprehendingly at Rainhill's prone form. When he looked up and saw the others staring at him, he bashfully tucked his wand away and stared at the floor.

"Peter," James said, and Peter lifted his eyes shyly. "I'm never going anywhere without you again."

Slowly Peter broke into a smile, his ears growing redder by the moment. Eventually the four started to laugh, softly at first but growing louder after each chuckle, relieving the tension of the recent adventure. Soon James found it hard to continue standing as his legs buckled weakly beneath him, and he leaned on Dumbledore's desk for support. After a minute or two, he finally wiped the tears from his eyes and sighed. The room was suddenly replaced with an odd silence.

"I suppose Malfoy's far gone by now," Sirius commented, breaking everyone out of their stupor. Bending down, Remus put his ear to Professor Rainhill's chest.

"We need to get him to Madam Pomfrey," he announced, straightening up at once.

"Right," James responded, rushing to the still body. "Remus, you and I will carry him. Someone get the door."

Everyone jumped into motion, and Rainhill was nearly to the exit when Peter turned the handle and came face to face with . . .

"What is going on in here?" Dumbledore asked, looking behind Peter at the ruins of his office. Spotting Remus, who still looked very much like Dumbledore, he paused, his mouth still opened slightly.

"Malfoy was in here, and Professor Rainhill needs to go to the hospital wing," James explained rapidly. Coming back to himself, Dumbledore shook his head and turned behind him.

"Take him to Poppy," he commanded, and Fawkes the phoenix flew out of nowhere into the room, grasped Rainhill's shoulders, and hoisted him effortlessly out of the office and down the stairs. Turning back to James, Dumbledore closed the door and said, "Tell me everything."

"Lucius Malfoy broke into your office and tried to steal the sword of Gryffindor," James told him, gesturing towards the sword where it lay against the wall. "He's been controlling Professor Rainhill with the Imperius Curse for the entire school year, and he almost killed him when we tried to stop him. He got away before we could do anything."

"He said he used the Draught of Living Death on Professor Rainhill with Snape's help," Sirius added.

" _Although_ ," Remus broke in, "he didn't know what Malfoy was using it for."

"That's Remus," James explained when Dumbledore continued to stare at him, and the Headmaster gave a little grunt of either surprise or amusement. "We think Malfoy's a Death Eater, sir," James continued. "He said his friends provided a distraction outside of Hogwarts to get you away." When he finished, a short silence fell over the five of them.

"So if I'm to take this correctly," Dumbledore finally spoke up, "you four broke into my office on a whim to stop a student from stealing something you weren't even supposed to know was here." Immediately struck with the absurdity of their claim, Remus and Peter lowered their heads, and even Sirius began to trace the lines in the wood planks on the floor with his toe. Angered by their embarrassment, James narrowed his eyes at Dumbledore.

"Well, do you believe us?" he demanded forcefully, and the other three snapped their heads up. After a pause, Dumbledore nodded.

"Yes, I believe you," he stated simply.

"Well, why don't we find Malfoy, then?" James asked angrily. "He's probably still in the castle somewhere!"

"Unfortunately," Dumbledore said, walking to the wall to retrieve the sword, "the witnesses of four young schoolboys will not convince anyone outside of this room, especially when you're testifying against a family as prestigious as the Malfoys. You have no proof of your claim beyond an unconscious professor and a wrecked office."

"How about Professor Rainhill?" James demanded. "When he wakes up, he can tell you that Malfoy placed the Imperius Curse on him!"

"Unfortunately, I don't believe he will remember a thing," Dumbledore replied. "It was a clever disguise to place Ignacius of all people under the Imperius Curse, because he was naturally tired and slow. If he was under the curse's effects for almost an entire year, he may likely retain irreversible damage."

"So we're just going to let Malfoy go?" James asked, astounded. "What about Snape? I'm sure we can find some leftover potion or make him confess or—"

"Since Snape did not know the consequences of his actions, we cannot hold him accountable. It is certainly not ideal to leave things as they are, but nothing else can be done. Besides, I'll have enough trouble covering up for the mess you four made." Gulping, James at last felt abashed and glanced at the floor. "Imagine," Dumbledore continued, "I open the door to my office and find a replica of myself with three young boys standing in the middle of a veritable mess with a treasured relic out of place. Imagine the outrage if the Ministry got ahold of this bit of news. However, I do not intend for my school to undergo the inevitable publicity which would occur, as I prefer to deal with any student mishaps personally."

Biting his lip, James imagined the type of punishment they would receive from the Headmaster. Cleaning the dungeons without magic? Permanent personal assistance to Filch? Detentions so long they could barely keep up with class work?

"Fortunately for you, however," Dumbledore continued, "it is the last day of the term. I cannot presume to keep you from your families, who are undoubtedly looking forward to the return of your mischief." Glancing up again, James thought he spotted a glimmer of amusement in the old wizard's eyes. "And, for what it is worth, your suspicions were correct, and you have saved the school from a considerable tragedy. Therefore, I'm afraid I will have to let you go with only a missed feast, however scrumptious."

Immediately the tension in the room dissipated. "Thank you, sir," Remus sighed in his regular voice. Looking over, James saw he had returned to his normal appearance, and Remus handed James' glasses back to him.

"I don't suppose there's much chance for winning the House Cup, then, is there?" James asked Dumbledore as he put on his glasses, disheartened.

Chuckling gently, the Headmaster answered, "No, I don't believe so. But if you ask me, there wasn't really much of a chance for Gryffindor this year, anyway." Standing up, he told them, "You may return to your business now, but be warned: I want no rumor of this escapade to invade the school. You are not to speak of what happened here to anyone else."

"Yes, sir," James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter all replied, and they headed to the door as Dumbledore picked up the sword of Gryffindor.

"But sir," James suddenly piped up as curiosity struck him, "why did Malfoy want the sword in the first place?" His question caused the other three boys to stop and look back at the Headmaster through the doorway.

At first, Dumbledore only stood silently at his desk, tapping his fingers lightly on the wood. "If he was indeed working for someone else, namely Lord Voldemort—and trust me when I say I will keep a close watch on Mr. Malfoy during his final year—then the object obviously has a sort of allure for his master. What, exactly, Voldemort would want with a possession belonging to one of Hogwarts' founders, I cannot tell. He has been known to be a bit of a collector, you might say, but I cannot guess the reasons behind these events. However, rest assured that Gryffindor's sword is one object he will not be taking for his own."

Breaking off, he walked to one of the bookcases on the wall and grabbed an old, tattered object James had not noticed before or seen since his first day at Hogwarts: the Sorting Hat.

"Whaddya lookin' at, four-eyes?" the hat asked James, the ripped brim opening like a mouth.

"Behave, these are guests," Dumbledore admonished it, giving it a shake. Obediently, the hat fell limp as Dumbledore slid the sword of Gryffindor into the opening where a head would normally be, and the silver blade magically disappeared without coming out from the other side.

"What was that for?" Sirius asked, confused.

"The Sorting Hat has a rather particular set of uses," Dumbledore replied. "It will keep the sword safe until someone comes to retrieve it. However, in order for it to be completely secure, an enchantment from the outside would help." Looking thoughtfully down at the Sorting Hat, he murmured, "The trouble is thinking of the spell. I could limit the sword's access to a future Headmaster, but I can see many ways that could go wrong. Also, I couldn't dream of leaving it exclusively in my care: someone else may have need of it yet. Should I leave it only to those who know of its new home? A descendant of its original owner?"

"How about a true Gryffindor?" James suggested. For a moment, Dumbledore simply stared contemplatively in his direction, stroking his beard with his free hand.

"Yes," he finally agreed, glancing back down at the Sorting Hat. "Yes, indeed. After all, we can't expect Godric to show impartiality . . ." Pulling out his wand, he waved it over the brim of the hat; a swirl of golden light emitted from his wand-tip and sunk into the fabric.

Satisfied, Dumbledore put his wand away. "One day, I expect the sword will see the light of day again. But until then, no one will be able to take it unless they have real need—and I suspect that will not happen for a long time."

Nodding, James caught their cue to leave, and he slowly closed the door. Up until the bolt clicked in place, he could still see the Headmaster standing in the center of his office, the Sorting Hat hanging loyally at his side.


	14. Back Home

**Back Home**

The next morning, the whole school was buzzing with rumors about Professor Rainhill's accident. As promised, James and his roommates had not told anyone what had happened in Dumbledore's office, but people began to speculate when the word leaked out that Madam Pomfrey had sent Rainhill to St. Mungo's Hospital during the night. According to the matron, he had supposedly slipped into a deep slumber and did not appear likely to wake anytime soon; in fact, many believed he would never fully recover.

"At his age, he's gone for good," Frank told Dill and Frederick on their way out of Hogwarts through the front gate, where Filch was checking off the exiting queue of students using a list stretching to his feet. "If Madam Pomfrey couldn't cure him, it must be serious."

"I don't reckon he minds his predicament much," Dill replied. "It'll be like a dream come true; just think, a lifetime of endless sleep!"

Behind him, James exchanged knowing glances with his roommates as they passed Filch and continued on the road up to the place where the Hogwarts Express would be waiting for them. As a few seventh-year students ran ahead of them, laughing and kicking up the dirt like ecstatic first-years, Sirius waved and called out to his cousin.

"Hey, how did your N.E.W.T.s go?" Sirius asked, and Andromeda tossed her wavy, dark hair out over her shoulder as she turned around with a beam.

"Oh, I won't get the results back until later this summer," she told him, but she continued to smile brightly. "I think I did pretty well though, excepting maybe Astronomy."

"So what are you planning to do?" Remus inquired curiously.

"I have no idea!" she replied happily. "I think I'll play around with a few ideas before settling down on anything. How did you do on your exams?" she asked, addressing Sirius.

"Oh, fine enough," he answered unconcernedly, shrugging.

Smiling knowingly, James glanced at the others; traveling back to the night before, he recalled when they had returned to their dormitory to find notices on their four-posters revealing their exam scores. Although Sirius did not seem concerned about his grades, he had scored impressive scores in nearly every subject, his best grades being in Charms and Defense Against the Dark Arts. Nearly mirroring Sirius, James had earned high marks in everything except Potions, which he had barely managed to pass after his questionable performance during the exam. However, his Transfiguration score more than made up for his Potions one, and he had even received a short note from Professor McGonagall praising him for his excellent work. Remus had earned high scores in all of his exams, reflecting on his hours of diligent studying, but Peter had failed to procure even a remotely noteworthy mark in any of his subjects; James suspected the only thing keeping him from failing altogether was the automatic pass they had all received in Herbology due to the early termination of their exam.

Sighing nostalgically, Andromeda placed her hands on her hips and gazed back at the Hogwarts castle. "It feels almost wrong, leaving Hogwarts. Enjoy your time here while you can; you'll be saying goodbye to the school before you know it." Turning back to Sirius, she smiled and extended her arms. "Can I get a hug? This will be the last time we'll see each other before the summer." Grunting, Sirius grudgingly allowed her to embrace him before pushing her away again. "See you later, cousin!" she announced, jogging off to join her friends.

As she headed off, James and the others continued the rest of the way to the Hogwarts Express talking amongst themselves and laughing about the surprising outcome of the House Cup, which had ended in a near tie between Slytherin and Ravenclaw. The latter had pulled ahead by under 50 points, causing a considerable amount of tension between the two Houses on the last evening of term. On the whole, James felt a great deal less disappointed than he had at first at the probability of not winning the Cup, and he had decided to revel in Slytherin's loss with the rest of his House.

When they reached the platform holding the scarlet-painted Hogwarts Express, James and his friends waved at the bulky form of Hagrid, who stood commandingly over the milling students as a temporary chaperone. Waving back briefly, the oversized man flashed a quick smile before catching himself and turning back to his duties, herding a group of first-year Ravenclaws into a nearby car. Tilting his head, James waited until they had drawn a little nearer before calling out to him.

"Hi, Hagrid!" he greeted, and the gamekeeper gave him a quick, friendly glance before looking away again. "What are you doing?" James asked, glancing around the platform.

"Just getting' everyone settled into the train safely," Hagrid answered distractedly. "Sorry I can't stop an' talk to yeh properly, but I 'ave ter make sure everyone gets inside."

"Why, didn't Filch already count everyone?" James inquired.

"I suppose that 'e did," he replied, and he flushed beneath his beard. "To tell yeh the truth, I just want ter take better care with my duties before reburbishin' the grounds over the summer. Professor Dumbledore 'ad a talk with me yesterday, and apparently 'e 'ad a bit o' trouble with his office the other day—'e 'ad ter ask me ter be a bit more careful with his passwords."

Waving him goodbye, James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter trotted into the crowd of students and climbed aboard the methodically puffing train. After having lugged Hardwin's cage safely inside, James helped the others up before walking down the length of the train's interior. Searching for an empty compartment, he and his friends were passed by a group of older Slytherins, but they stopped when Lucius Malfoy stalled long enough to turn and address them.

"I heard Professor Rainhill's permanently out of commission," he told the four, a twisted smile curving his lips. "I guess we'll never find out what happened to him."

"If you try any more tricks next year, you'll be out of commission, too," James snarled, undaunted by his confident grin. "You got lucky this time, but you won't get away so easily again."

"And what makes you say that?" Malfoy drawled, still smiling infuriatingly.

"You can't do anything while Professor Dumbledore's around," Sirius responded, crossing his arms. "He's going to keep an eye on you from now on, and so are we."

"But that's just the thing," Malfoy drawled unconcernedly, turning around with a dismissive wave of his hand. "I know you are."

Shuddering as he stalked away, Peter commented, "He reminds me of a snake."

"We'll have to watch him next year," Remus agreed, nodding. Surprised, James turned to look at him.

"Really?" he asked. "Aren't you going to complain about how we should be minding our own business?"

"Well, we can't get any more engaged than we were yesterday," Remus defended himself, but Sirius nudged him in the ribs.

"You want to spy on him?" he prodded jokingly.

"I mean, he's obviously not trustworthy—"

"Are you telling us to break school rules?" Sirius added.

"As long as we're just keeping an eye on him, we're not disobeying any rules—"

"Hey, mates, I think he's feeling mischievous!" Sirius announced to the others.

"Oh, forget it!" Remus finally exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air and walking to an empty compartment.

On the journey back home, the four passed the time by playing several rounds of Exploding Snap and sharing bags full of pumpkin pasties and Chocolate Frogs, which they bought from the trolley witch when she passed by the door. Together they recounted the events of the past year and joked about their plans for their return, and James and Sirius promised to both trap Peeves in an enchanted bottle and install a lift traveling directly up to their dormitory from the bottom of Gryffindor Tower. Only with much persuading from Remus did they agree to forgo their idea to string Mrs. Norris up by her tail at the top of the Astronomy Tower, seeing as Filch seemed to possess an uncanny connection to his pet and would probably sniff out the perpetrators before they had even finished the job. Despite the changing colors of the sky outside, the trip back to King's Cross Station somehow seemed much shorter than the journey to Hogwarts at the start of the school year, and soon enough the Hogwarts Express had left the towering mountains behind in favor of a sparsely-populated countryside.

Saddened by the inevitable separation from his friends, James slowly lowered his suitcase from the overhead rack as the train chugged to a halt at its final destination. Grabbing Hardwin's cage while the Screech owl hooted disdainfully, he trooped out with his roommates onto the smoky platform and glanced around. To their right, Frank emerged from the train and waved at them as he set off into the crowd.

"See you next year!"

"Take care!" the others responded, waving as he disappeared. For a moment afterwards, the air around them seemed to thicken with unsaid goodbyes as they quieted and stared at the stream of departing students.

"Well, this is it, I suppose," Sirius eventually broke the silence, and they all nodded solemnly.

"It'll be September before we know it," Remus added, voicing the others' thoughts.

"Oh, there's my mum!" Peter exclaimed suddenly, pointing to a frantically waving, heavyset woman with a flower-print scarf. Gripping his suitcase, he waved back and paused just before hurrying off. "See you guys later!"

As he rushed off, James turned to Sirius and Remus and crossed his arms. "We have to meet up during the summer; I won't be able to wait until the school year starts again! You won't forget to write, will you?"

"Of course we'll write," Remus agreed, but he broke off suddenly as he glanced to the side and spotted an attractive couple with smiling faces. "Write back!" he told his friends before skipping towards the pair and hugging them in greeting.

Sighing as he watched, James considered introducing himself to Remus' parents but decided against it when the beaming woman began conversing excitedly with her son. Glancing around, he saw Dill jump off the train and run into the waiting arms of a welcoming couple standing at the front of the crowd. To the right, Hillary darted off into the throng of eagerly waiting parents while Alice stood talking with Lily for a moment longer. As he continued to look in their direction, James suddenly noticed a pair of dark eyes studying the girls from a short distance away, and he pulled his wand out before Snape could react.

"Hey, Snivellus!" he called out, making the tweedy boy start in surprise. Taking a step closer, James twirled his wand in his hand while Sirius stood by his side and crossed his arms. "We know what you made for Malfoy over the school year, and you'd better watch your step. If you have a hand in another illegal experiment, we'll find you out."

Eyeing him with distaste, Snape sneered, "I don't know what you're talking about."

Taking yet another step, James responded, "Don't tell me you never even gave a thought to why Malfoy needed a potion as powerful as the Draught of Living Death. Even you're not that clueless." Briefly, something resembling fear flashed in Snape's eyes, and he took a step back.

"We'll be watching you," Sirius threatened. "One wrong move and we'll have you lying in the hospital wing before you can get Professor Slughorn to pat you on the back." Glancing around for an escape route, Snape fingered his robes' pockets for his wand as James and Sirius advanced.

"What are you doing?" a voice suddenly cried out, and Lily stepped forward from where she and Alice had been standing a moment before, her hands on her hips. Immediately placing his wand back in his pocket, James grinned at her.

"We were just talking about the weather," he lied, putting his palm out. "It's going to rain, don't you think?"

"If you bother Severus one more time, I'm going to tell the professors," Lily threatened.

Unimpressed, Sirius leaned on one foot and replied, "You know, I think Snivellus Greasy can fight his own battles."

Glaring angrily, Snape retorted, "Whenever you think you can do the same, I'd like to see one of you without the other to back you up."

"Sev!" Lily exclaimed, and he turned away with a final glower. Throwing a vicious look over her shoulder, she did the same and vanished into the crowd after him.

Now alone with Sirius, James turned back to face him, but his friend had let out a sigh as he stared further down the platform; following his gaze, James spotted a crisp-featured, sharply-dressed couple with Sirius' same dark hair staring impatiently at the Hogwarts Express, the woman's hand resting on a small boy's shoulder in front of her.

"I have to go," Sirius mumbled, picking up his suitcase. As he started to walk away, James grabbed his shoulder.

"Remember to get permission to visit," he told him. "I won't take no for an answer."

Looking back at him, Sirius allowed a smile to brighten his face. "Will do," he answered. "Merlin, I'll even use the Imperius Curse on them if I have to."

Breaking into a grin, James let go of his shoulder so he could turn away and walk after his family. Staring after him, he let his thoughts envelop him until a familiar voice jolted him out of his reflections.

"James?"

Turning around, James jerked Hardwin's cage off of the ground a little too suddenly for the owl's liking before dropping it again after a few short steps and launching into his mother's arms. Grasping her happily before letting go and greeting his father, he did not speak until he had let go of them again.

"I've missed you so much!" his mother exclaimed, hugging him once more and kissing the top of his head. Satisfied, James sniffed the familiar, welcoming scent of her gray hair. "The house was too quiet without you," she told him.

"So how was your first year?" his father asked interrogatively, his arms folded jauntily over his chest.

"Brilliant!" James answered excitedly. "There's so much I need to tell you!"

"Did you already say goodbye to your friends?" his mother inquired.

Grinning to himself, James looked back at the Hogwarts Express puffing in the bright afternoon sun. "Yeah. There's going to be a lot of people visiting us during the summer."

* * *

 ** _Thank you and congratulations for making it to the end of this book! If you want to continue following the story of James and his friends, please check out_ James Potter and the Lost School _!_**


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